When Vaults Are Opened
by inlovewithpadfoot
Summary: Harry had always been too curious for his own good. So when he found a certain artifact while looking through the Black vault, he couldn't help but find out what it was. Malfoy just had to, ahem- "help". And they just had to end up in 1977. BACK TO WIP!
1. Prologue

**Title: **When Vaults Are Opened.

**Disclaimer: **So, this is on a website, instead of on the pages published by Bloomsbury or Scholastic or the other awesome publications. Clearly, this is not mine. I only get to play with them.

**Pairings: **Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, past Harry/Ginny, James/Lily, Remus/Sirius (hints).

**Rating: **M

**Warnings: **DH spoilers, sexual content, language, mentioned death, EWE.

**Full Summary: **Harry had always been too curious for his own good. So when he found a certain artifact while looking through the Black vault, he couldn't help but find out what it was. And of course, Malfoy just had to, ahem- _help._ Which, since this was Harry, brought them here. To 1977. No more excitement _indeed._

**Author's Notes: **I watched Harry Potter DH 1 today when this idea came to me during the scene where Bellatrix freaks out about Harry, Ron, and Hermione going into her vault. I couldn't resist, so I came home and power wrote this. (Which will probably explain all the mistakes in it. I was too hyper to wait before posting it).

This was undignified. Very undignified. In fact, it was so undignified that Draco couldn't believe he was actually following through on this- this...errand. Like some unimportant errand boy. Which, considering he was running an errand for the Headmistress, made sense. But the indignity chafed.

Honestly! He had spent the better half of term trying to keep away from Potter and his ilk and now he was forced to go fetch them. Like a dog. An _errand_ dog.

"Potter?"

This was quite probably the nine hundredth classroom he had looked in. Why on earth was Draco looking for Harry Potter and his two sidekicks? Well, that would be because the trio had been absent from the public view since breakfast. He, along with five other eighth year prefects had been given the task of locating the Wonder Boy. He had been given the third floor corridor to search through. It would not have been very exhausting were it not for the fact that a Hogwarts floor was equivalent to all nine floors of the Ministry combined.

And of course Locator Spells wouldn't work on students in the castle because that would just make too much sense.

Draco sighed. Opened the next door and-

Oh thank buggering Merlin!

"Potter!"

The boy in question turn around so swiftly Draco was sure he heard a bone crack. Weasley spoke first.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

They were standing suspiciously close to each other. Almost as if- as if they were hiding something behind their back. Granger kept darting glances at her two boyfriends. Potter looked calm. Weasley just looked plain annoyed.

Draco decided to ignore the Ginger Prick. He took a step forward. The three friends moved together even more closely. Yes. Definitely hiding something. "The entire castle is looking for it's Savior, Potter."

"Right, well. Thanks, Malfoy. We'll be right there."

"Haven't got all day, Potter. Headmistress needs you now." Yes, Draco was being difficult. But Potter was hiding something and he wanted to know what, dammit.

"Bugger off, Malfoy. He said he'll be there."

Draco rolled his eyes at the Weasel, took another step closer to the desk, trying to peer over their shoulder. "You wouldn't be so keen to be rid of me because you've got something behind you back now, would you?"

"None of your business," Weasley groused. Granger gave her boyfriend a warning glance.

Draco shook his head dramatically. "Come now, Weasley. Surely you can tell me? For old times sake?"

Potter sighed. "Please Malfoy. It really is none of your concern. You've delivered your message now."

Draco huffed. This was exactly why he had decided to stay away from Potter and mind his own damn business this year. The Gryffindor had a tendency to bring out the worst in him.

"Come now, Potter. Still keeping secrets?"

Potter coughs, and that's when he sees it. _There. _

Something that looked distinctly like something he had seen in the Ancient Black Archival. He narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired Gryffindor, smirking in satisfaction. He's seen that particular artifact before, long ago...his mother had told him about it.

"Stealing heirlooms that don't belong to3 you, Potter? Didn't think petty theft was your thing."

"It's not theft if you've inherited it, Malfoy."

"But it belongs to the Blacks," Draco wasted no time in stating. "Not that you'd be able to use it anyhow. It needs Black blood, you see. A pair, in fact." Draco felt quite proud of himself, thwarting whatever it was Potter and his little posse had set out to do.

The artifact in question was a small silver disk-like object with a rotating jade sphere in the center. Narcissa never actually told Draco what the object did. It was named the Sphereix. The book Narcissa had inherited from the Black library was never actually clear on what the actual purpose of this was other than to adorn the walls of the Black House. The only thing he did know about the object was that it required two people, a pair, with Black blood running in their veins. The littlest drop would suffice.

"You- you know what this is?" Potter widened his eyes comically. "Know how to use it?"

No. He did not.

"Perhaps," was his answer. "Like I said," Draco stepped closer, ran his fingers over the Sphereix that sat loosely in Potter's hand. Weasley immediately clamped his large hand down on Draco's wrist while Granger held on to his. Merlin forbid he actually come within an inch of touching their precious Potter. "Like I said," he continued with a disdainful glance at Weasley's unrelenting fingers. "Only those belonging to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, such as I, can wield the artifact known as Sphereix."

Those, he would later learn, were the damning words.

**##**##**

Harry felt the tell-tale jerk behind his navel he usually associated with Portkey travel. He could feel Ron bumping into his side and Malfoy pressing against his chest as the traveled to...somewhere. And yet, when the nausea dissipated and he was standing upright again, the disk-like object- Sphereix, Malfoy had called it- clutched tightly in his right hand, it looked as though they were in the same classroom they had been in before the rushing of color and wind.

"Where-" Hermione gasped, her knuckles white against Ron's arm. "Where are we?"

"What did you do, Malfoy!" Ron cried. Harry was sure if he were not busy supporting Hermione, his friend would have surely launched himself onto Malfoy.

Malfoy, like Harry, was looking around the familiar surroundings. "I haven't done anything! In case you hadn't noticed, Weasley, Potter was the one holding the Sphereix, not me."

Harry interjected before either of the two could being a shouting match. "It looks like we're still in Hogwarts, Ron. No need to panic just yet."

Liar, Harry told himself. He was panicking just fine by himself. If they really were in Hogwarts then why had he felt as though he had just been squeezed and folded through time and space as he was wont to do during any magical travel?

He looked down at the Sphereix. It wasn't overly large, nor did it look any different than it had thirty seconds ago. It fit perfectly on his palm, the sphere sitting motionless. Harry had been going through the Black vault since he had never had the chance when he had actually inherited it, and found this among its many treasures. Apparently, some objects were not considered safe even in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

But, of all the so called treasures, only this one called to Harry, drew him in, pulled at him like a magnet would to iron. Without thinking, he had pocketed the disk-like artifact and enlisted the help of Ron and Hermione immediately. They had been unsuccessful until now, but Malfoy- _Malfoy_, of all people- had clued him in on what it might be.

Which landed them...here.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione, who had wandered over to the window, called out from behind the drawn curtain. They both rushed to her. "What time was it when Malfoy came to look for us?"

Harry looked to the blonde, who shrugged and said, "Just after break. So...about noon."

Hermione pulled the curtain apart harshly. "It doesn't look like noon anymore."

Harry almost gasped, unconsciously tightening his hold on the Sphereix. She was right. It was nightfall, and the stars were shining brightly. A rarity in these late November days where constant cloud cover was more common.

"What the-" Ron stared dumbfounded at the dark grounds. "But how can- what- this can't be...can it?"

Harry pressed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He had barely gotten any sleep lately due to spending day in and day out trying to discover the mystery of the Black artifact, his head hurt more sharply than Voldemort had ever managed. And now. Now at the very best he had time traveled a few hours into the future. At the very worst...well, he didn't much care to think about that.

"Right," He said, looking up at his friends and Malfoy. "Right. We're going to McGonagall and figuring out what the bloody hell is going on, okay?" His tone left no room for argument. Not that he would get any from Ron and Hermione, only Malfoy. Without another word, he strode to the door and stalked toward the Headmistress' office, the other three hot on his heels.

He stated the password confidently, expecting the gargoyle to give way immediately. It did not.

"Abeo," he stated again. When he was forced to repeat it for the third time, he looked at Ron and Hermione questioningly. "Did the password change?"

"No. It's Abeo," Malfoy answered, staring at the gargoyle. "Or it was last I knew."

Harry glared at the guardian. "I know you can hear me, you stupid stone lump. If the password's changed just let us in! It's isn't like you've never seen us before." That did not particularly help. Malfoy snorted. Harry politely decided to ignore the blonde prat. He was not in the mood for Malfoy right now. "Come on, you effing piece of rock!" He had swung his leg out to kick it when the spiral staircase moved with a great rumbling sound not uncommon to the Headmistress's office entrance.

However, it was not the Headmistress that stepped in front of them.

Hermione gasped. Ron cursed. Malfoy gave a somewhat strangled cry, and Harry... Harry only gaped.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry thought it was lucky Hermione had found her voice, because Harry was quite certain his had decided to stand up, pack its bags and walk out for good.

"Indeed." The professor observed them over his half-moon spectacles. "Who are you, trying to gain access to my office?"

He looked younger than when Harry had last seen him at the bottom of the Astronomy tower. And more alive.

Again, Hermione answered, or questioned something. Harry was too preoccupied with himself, busy trying to find words that were not _But, why the hell are you alive?_ and _You should be fucking _dead_._ Neither, he was certain, would go down well. Best to let Hermione do the talking while he did the staring. And gaping. And basically looking foolish all around.

Malfoy was sure to mock him for that later.

Harry blindly followed as he felt the familiar press of Ron's fingers on his elbow. He led him up after the Headmaster. Harry could do nothing but stare, his mind whirring so fast that all he registered were short words: How? What? Where? But-

He sat through Hermione's explanation quietly, handed over the Sphereix when she removed it from his fingers. The metal had dug ridges into his palm where he held on to it. He had eyes for no one other than the not-so-late Headmaster. Hermione introduced everyone on their behalf, asking questions and answering some in return.

It wasn't until Harry heard "October, 1977" that he reacted. Jerked violently.

So it _was_ Time Travel. Not just a few hours into the future, but days, months, years in the past.

Never again, he promised himself, would he meddle with blatantly Dark artifacts. He had thought he had enough excitement for a lifetime.

Yet, looking at Dumbledore across the familiar desk, chin resting slightly on his long fingers, he knew that was apparently not so.


	2. In Which James meets Jameson

The next morning, sitting in the courtyard during Break, Harry couldn't tell you what had exactly happened in the Headmaster's office last night. Hermione had done all the talking and telling.

All Harry knew at the end of the meeting was that he was now Harvey Jameson, Gryffindor seventh year transfer from Livingston Private Academy of Magic from Scandinavia with less messy but still just as dark hair, dark blue eyes, and Glamored scar. And his best friends were Roald Leswey and Hermione Granger. Hermione, being Muggleborn, didn't have recognizable name, so didn't have to change it.

Draco Malfoy was now Darren Mallory of Slytherin. Harry wondered how he was coping being all alone in the dungeons. At least he had Ron and Hermione with him. Or Roald and Hermione as they were to be called from now until the time Dumbledore could find a way to fix this and send them to their own time.

As far as Harry knew, he had not spoken a word to Dumbledore. He had been to shocked to speak. Knowing that his mentor was alive- well, it wasn't something you got over from easily.

Truth be told, Harry was quite anxious about today. He had not yet met Remus, and Sirius, and his parents. He knew they were here. Harry and Ron were living in the same dorm as them. But Ron and he had gone up to the seventh year's dormitory late last night to find two extra beds with new trunks already waiting for them, and Harry had left early wanting to avoid a conversation with alive dead men twenty years younger than Harry had last seen them. Ron seemed to understand, because he woke without complaint and followed a silent Harry to breakfast.

A loud, familiar bark-like laugh and bang caught his attention along with everyone else's in the courtyard.

Harry didn't even have to crane his neck. They were right in his sight in the middle of the courtyard looking as cool and collected and...cruel as they had in the pensieve memory of Snape. Only this time, their target was Malfoy, not Snape.

Harry spared a moment to think of that conversation long ago when Sirius and told him- promised him- his father had improved come seventh year. Apparently this improvement did not extend to Slytherins bent over trying to collect their books frantically while they whizzed around him in a tornado.

Harry could feel the probing stares on him as Ron and Hermione looked from him to James Potter back to him. He could feel the shameful heat crawl up him neck, shook his head to ward off any questions and walked toward the elite foursome, trying to gather as much courage as possible.

It felt odd, defending Malfoy. But then, hadn't he been doing just that since the beginning of their eight year whenever any student felt that the young blonde had gotten off too easy in the trials? Harry knew Ron and Hermione were right behind him. Supporting. Curious, but there.

Malfoy was getting more and more angry as well as humiliated by the second, but he didn't show it. Harry just knew him that well. How, he would think on later.

As he drew closer, he could hear his father laughing with Sirius. "This'll teach him." Almost immediately, three books began hitting Malfoy in the head simultaneously. The crowd roared in laughter. Harry could barely suppress the mortification from showing on his face.

Harry waved his wand in a sweeping motion. The books froze and fell to the ground. He picked up the one closest to his foot. "Hey, come on now. That's enough."

James Potter looked mortally offended. He glanced back at Sirius ask if to ask_ did he just say that?_ Out loud, he asked, "What?"

Harry was torn between being respectful to the father he never knew, and telling a common schoolyard bully off. He chose the latter, seeing how James was not yet his father. Besides, Harry had experience with bullies. He'd been running away from them for most of his childhood. "You've had your fun, mate."

James tossed an incredulous look at Sirius who smirked. The former sauntered toward Harry with arrogance in his every step. Harry just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He stopped three feet away from Harry. It was like looking in the mirror, with just slight differences. The eyes, in particuluar.

"Do I know you?"

Automatically, Harry offered his hand. "I'm Harvey," he said without hesitation. He had practiced looking at himself in the mirror earlier that morning, repeating the words Harvey Jameson over and over again to make them stick.

James glanced down at the proffered hand just barely, and scoffed. "So I don't know you."

"No." Harry shook his head, making sure to maintain eye contact. It was difficult. Very difficult when all the bones in his body just wanted to collapse on top of James Potter, screaming _Dad, it's me!_ and never let go. But he resisted. Because that would be the height of stupidity.

"Yet you called me...mate," James spoke as though he were talking to a very slow four year old.

Ah. Yes, that. Harry clenched his hand into a fist, pulling it back, he said, "My mistake."

"Yes, I think so."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, clucking his tongue in a careless manner."I could never have a mate who could be such an arse." The words slipped out before he even knew what he was saying.

An arse. He just called his own father an _arse_.

Behind him, Harry heard Ron suppress a snigger. Harry turned away to help Malfoy with all his books, knowing it was better to walk away now before things escalated. He was just going to ignore his arrogant father when James' next words made him freeze and turn back.

"Or I one who could be so stupid." James Potter's wand was now trained on him. "Tell me, _Harvey_, do know how to walk on your knees?"

Harry blanched mentally. Surely- surely he hadn't just said that? Harry raised an eyebrow, still calm. "No." He wasn't scared of his own father. No. Not _at_ _all._

James smirked, wand twitching just so. "Would you like me to help you?" It was Sirius' turn to chortle loudly, encouraging the crowd around them to join in. Remus looked on warily while Wormtail looked ready to piss in his pants from excitement.

Some part of Harry itched to whip his wand out and finish Wormtail right there, but he held back knowing no good would come of it. The future, Hermione had painstakingly explained when they were merely thirteen, was extremely delicate and not to be tampered with. Killing Wormtail now would be tampering at it's best. Destruction at it's worst.

Harry let go of the book, turned steadily to look at James. "I wouldn't if I were you."

"Why?" James grinned cockily. An expression Harry was unused to seeing on a face so similar to his own. "What would you _possibly_ do to me?"

Now, it was Harry's turn to grin. A challenge he could answer easily. "You have no idea." James only smirked some more, obviously confident he could beat Harry. But Harry was ready for him. "_Expelliarmus_!" Harry said almost lazily before James even had a chance to throw his hex. The wand flew and skittered into Harry's hand. James looked dumbstruck, turning a sickly shade of red. "I warned you not to."

With that, he threw the wand at James' feet, turned his back on his baffled seventeen year old father and began helping Malfoy with his books with Ron and Hermione. By the time he looked around, his father and his friends were gone.

Hermione and Ron looked distressed while Malfoy looked plain angry.

"Harry," Hermione said softly, worrying her bottom lip as if speaking a decibel higher would set Harry off. "That was-"

"I know." He did know. He'd just dueled with his father. No. That was no duel. That was just defeat. He'd made an enemy out of his own bloody father. Because of Malfoy.

"Blimey, he was-"

"An arse?" Harry offered Ron, smiling sadly at his best friends' confused expression.

Malfoy stowed the last of his books in his bag, glaring at Harry. "I hate your father, Potter," he muttered to avoid being over heard by the gaggle of students still lingering.

"That's okay," Harry said, pushing one of the corners of a book firmly in the heavy sack. "I hate yours."

They hurried to Potions to avoid being late. Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy scurried to the closest seats, leaving Harry with only one option. Next to Remus. He searched through the dungeon a second time.

He had to contain a weary sigh. James had taken the spot next to his- his heart leapt at the realization- mother. Sirius was sitting with a Hufflepuff, and the Slytherins next to each other. Malfoy was next to Snape, one of the four Slytherins in this class. There were two Ravenclaws sitting together, and two other Hufflepuffs.

Resigned to his fate, Harry plonked himself next to Remus with an uneasy smile that was more of a grimace, intent on paying attention to Slughorn. He was amused to find Slughorn hadn't changed much, or wouldn't change much in the coming twenty years. He was the same jovial, if somewhat peculiar man with a large belly.

They were going to work on the Polyjuice Potion starting today. Harry could feel the waves of excitement radiating off Hermione from half way across the classroom as Slughorn explained the properties of this potion. She was the first one out of her seat, running to the store cupboard while Ron followed her lazily.

It was a pair project, and since Slughorn had always enjoyed his little games, Harry was stuck with Remus as his partner for the duration of the Polyjuice Potion.

"I'll get the ingredients," Harry muttered, and left before Remus could say anything more.

He was just collecting the boomslang skin when Ron muttered behind him, "Nice to get these legally, eh?"

Harry grinned at the memory of Hermione stealing ingredients back in second year. "Like that's ever stopped us before."

Hermione chose that moment to sidle up to them and snap. "There shall be no rule breaking while we're here. We don't need that on top of the fifty other things we've got to worry about."

"Yes, Mum," Harry said mock – somberly, following his friends, arms laden with supplies. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The rest of potions was an all around tense affair. Harry remained nice and polite to Remus throughout class and Remus was courteous enough to return the favor, regardless of his father and godfather's frigid glares burning into his neck with an intensity that would rival Snape and Malfoy combined.

It was not until dinner that night did Harry see either of his parents again. This time under completely different circumstances.

Harry was busy lamenting the ridiculous amount of homework that had been assigned to them. As if eighth year wasn't bad enough, he now had to go through the first half of the term all over again.

Hermione, on the other hand, had already drawn up new schedules for them. "...and the green is for potions whi- um...hello."

Harry, who had been staring at the color coded parchment blankly, looked up to see who Hermione was speaking to. Even after seeing Lily over and over again in Snape's memories, Harry still struggled to catch his breath when Lily clutched onto his hand and shook it vigorously.

"Hullo! Lily Evans, Head Girl. You must be Harvey Jameson, Hermione Granger, and Roald Leswey. Headmaster told me about your arrival. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'm always here to help you. Gryffindor, of course, so you'll be able to find me anytime. Well, I must go, but it was nice meeting you!" With another bright smile and twirl of her robes, his mother was gone. Flounced off to the Slytherin table to introduce herself to Malfoy.

He looked quite surprised to see her- a Gryffindor- at the table, shaking his hand just as happily as she had Harry's. For some inexplicable reason, a familiar coil of jealousy curled up his spine. He tried to squash it.

Ron and Hermione were staring at her, jaws slack. Ron acutely resembled the troll he had clubbed over the head in their first year. "That was-"

"Lily Potter, yes. Yes, she was," Hermione answered, nodding.

"How the hell did she get to the other end of the hall so quickly?" asked a bemused Ron. He shook his head a moment later as if to clear it from a haze. "Pity you got stuck with your dad's looks, Harry."

Harry chucked a bread roll at his friend. "Thanks," he replied dryly. Then, just because he was feeling vindictive and it seemed like it had been ages since he'd just sat and joked with Ron and Hermione, he added with a cheeky grin, "Your sister never had complaints, mate."

Hermione giggled as Ron turned an violent shade of red and held up a quite non-threatening spoon in his white knuckles. Harry turned back to look at the Slytherin table, but Lily was gone from there now too. She sat a little ways down the Gryffindor table with his father and Remus.

From the familiarity she exuded, it was apparent James and Lily were already together. This meant either she didn't know of his Slytherin baiting or chose to ignore it. Harry thought the former was more likely.

They looked happy, he noted absently as James laughed and wrapped his arm around Lily, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek. Lily blushed at that, swatted James' arm away and went back to eating her peas. He grinned at the content picture they made.

Almost as though James had sensed Harry look at him, his neck snapped up to lock eyes with Harry, a scowl already on his face.

Harry sighed, good mood evaporating as quickly as it had come.

**##**##**

James was on his way to the lake with Sirius when a loud roar erupted from the Quidditch pitch.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "There's not a match today, is there?"

"Not that I know of," James said, frowning wonderingly. He was quite sure there was no match today.

"Let's see what all that is about then," Sirius suggested, nodding toward the pitch.

The crowd's cheering got louder as they neared the stands. James and Sirius looked up to find two figures; one wearing a deep red shirt and the other a green, flying around each other.

"What's going on, then?" Sirius asked the nearest student, a Hufflepuff.

Her friend was the one to answer. "Jameson and Mallory are playing for the Snitch."

James peered at the distant figures. Now that James was looking closely he could make out the strong shoulder and dark hair of Jameson and the slightly more willowy build of Mallory, his light hair glinting in the rare October sunlight.

The former shouted something at the latter but it didn't reach the crowd as the wind carried the words away.

"They're bloody brilliant," a fellow Gryffindor said. "They've been at it for a bit more than an hour now."

"Bloody showoffs, you mean," James grumbled under his breath as Mallory flew to the far goal posts in a corkscrew and Jameson made loop-d-loops in the air to the crowd's amusement and James' consternation.

They _were_ good, James had to admit. And Jameson was a tad better than Mallory, but they weren't _amazing._ James had seen better players. Yet, there was something in the way Mallory and Jameson moved around each other, like they knew- anticipated- the other's next move. If James weren't worried about sounding like a _girl,_ he would say it was almost like some airborne dance they were performing in air rather than just catching the Snitch. They had a certain grace to it James rarely ever saw outside of team members.

But he _didn't_ want to sound like a girl so he kept thoughts of dancing students to himself. Sirius would never let him live it down if he said something that daft.

James watched as the entire crowd all but held its breath as Mallory and Jameson went from lazily flying to alert in under three seconds. It was like watching a relaxed rubber band stretched taut and snapped.

"Bloody hell, they're going to crash!"

They had seen the Snitch. Were racing toward it, and suddenly fell into a steep dive even James wouldn't attempt in his wildest dreams. Alright, so, _yes,_ he had attempted it, earning a face plant on the Quidditch pitch, a broken nose, three broken fingers, and a sprained wrist.

Mallory- clearly the smarter of the two- pulled out of the dive three feet above ground. Jameson- the idiot- on the other hand, didn't pull up until he was only a foot away from the ground. The crowd gasped at the close save. Jameson's palm was only a few inches away from the little golden ball when his broom handle tipped closer to the ground, caught in the grass and sent the Gryffindor arse over head across the pitch.

James would have shouted a loud _I told you so_, but Jameson was already standing unsteadily to his feet, Snitch's wings fluttering between his forefinger and thumb. The students roared in appreciation. As did Sirius.

With an agitated snort and nasty glare at his best friend, James spun around on his heel and stalked off to the dormitory. Jameson, he concluded, was a bloody show-off. And very dodgy.

How James knew he was dodgy? Well, he just did. And he vowed to find out more about this Jameson person.

No one could be that good. Definitely dodgy.

_A/N: Next up a suspicious James. Best friend Sirius who indulges suspicious James. A sensible Remus who tries to stop suspicious James. And Veritaserum. :D _

_P.S: The James and Harry dialogue is taken almost word for word from BBC Merlin episode one. I saw it and thought it would be interesting to have James dislike 'Jameson.'_


	3. Wherein Malfoy Does Not Have A Nice Neck

"...know where Wormtail is?" James heard Sirius ask Remus who answered with a quick, "Detention."

"James, stop glaring at the newbie and listen to me." Sirius' voice cut through to James.

"There's something about him," James said for the thirteenth time in as many minutes, frowning at Harvey Jameson across the Gryffindor common room. Harvey was sitting with his two friends who seemed to flock to Harvey like to unrelenting pillars.

They were always fucking there. James barely every saw him alone. If the boy and girl were not around then Harvey spent all of his time with the Slytherin he helped almost two weeks ago.

"You've said that ever since he Disarmed you," Remus pointed out, lips twitching up in a smirk. "You're just sore because he's better than you."

That was admittedly very true. He'd seen Harvey in Defense so far and he had to concede he was impressive. But he'd never admit than even under threat of death.

James leaned across the coffee table, elbows on his knees. "But don't you think its odd all three of them came to Hogwarts the same day?"

Remus gave a long suffering sigh, finally closing his book. "Honestly? No. I don't think it's odd because they seem to be best friends and seem the type who'd go to any means to stick together even if it meant leaving their country."

James huffed. "Yes. Well." He had no response to that.

"And besides," Remus went on. "He's really very nice once you get to know him."

Sirius gave a sharp glare which he covered up quickly. "Been getting chummy with him, have you?"

Remus snorted. "Hardly. We're potions partners after all."

James hummed quietly. He watched as Harvey and his two friends glanced around- quite suspiciously, James thought- and went up to the boys dormitory.

James decided to follow immediately, pausing to pull Sirius up by the collar so he would follow, who in turn brought Remus along. Once they were right outside their dormitory door, James whispered the Eavesdropper Charm to enable him and his friends to hear what was being said on the other side. He ignored Remus' disapproving stare. He needed to get down to this Harvey business, dammit.

"...got to figure out by ourselves." It was the girl's voice. Something Granger. She sounded very agitated.

"I know, Hermione, believe me, I know." That was definitely Harvey. "I don't particularly enjoy James Potter and Sirius Black trying to prank me every morning, noon, and night."

A snort. "Who knew they could be such dicks?" The blonde ignored his girlfriend's offended, "Ron!"

_Ron?_ Sirius mouthed at James. He didn't much care for the insult. He'd been called much worse. Mostly from Lily.

Indeed. As far as he knew, there was no Ron. The blonde boy's name was Roald.

"Look," Harvey said. "They're not the problem here. The problem is-"

"What you're going to do about tomorrow," the girl piped up.

"Tomorrow?" Roald and Harvey echoed.

"Yes, tomorrow. Full moon?" James could see Remus stiffen next to him.

A long pause, then there was a duet of "Oh."

"Yes. Oh. What are you going to do when Remus has to leave tomorrow?"

James could tell even in the darkened hallway that the set of Remus' shoulders were tense. And rightly so. How did these strangers who they had met for the first time only a week ago know about Remus'...problem?

"What can we do?" Harvey grumbled. "They're not likely to tell us, are they? I suppose we should just pretend to be asleep and let them all sneak out."

Them all...

They couldn't- surely not- there wasn't a chance in hell they knew about James, Sirius, and Peter being Animagi. Not a chance. No one other than the four of them knew. Not even Lily was aware yet.

"That...would be best," Granger said. There was another long pause, and James had just about given up on hearing anything more when an annoyed groan sounded from Harvey.

"Can you not do...that, while I'm in the room? We had set up some ground rules remember? Number One being no eye-sex while I'm in the room."

"Oh, bugger off," groused Roald- or Ron, or whatever the hell his name was.

"Gladly. I'm going to leave so you two can do...whatever it is you do when I'm not round."

"You mean you're going to harass your favorite Slytherin about the Sphereix," came the instant retort from Granger.

Harvey spluttered. "He- he is _not_ my favorite Slytherin."

Their only warning that Harvey was about to open the door and find all of them with their ear to the door was the heavy thump, thump, thump of footsteps on the other side.

They raced down the stairs, tripping over one another. James had only just managed to seat himself in the armchair in front of the fire when Harvey came down into the common room. He gave a half-glance at James, Sirius, and Remus before exiting through the portrait hole.

James gave his friends a significant look. It was a non-decision really. Of course James had to follow this Harvey bloke. He had to get answers. For Remus' sake, of course. Not to satisfy his burning curiosity- and bruised ego. Not at all.

James debated whether it was worth going upstairs to get his Invisibility Cloak, but then concluded they might loose Harvey. Besides, he didn't much fancy walking in on Granger and Leswey.

Without waiting for another moment, James, Sirius, and Remus were out the common room and following Harvey Jameson.

**##**##**

Harry knew he was being followed three minutes after leaving the common room. His father and his friends were not half as stealthy as they would like to think without the Cloak, Harry had learned over the last week or so.

He walked purposefully to the library, but not too swiftly or his pursuers might realize he knew he was being followed.

Malfoy looked up as Harry neared his fixed table at the back of the library. "Ah, there you are Po-"

"Mallory!" Harry interrupted before Malfoy could finish his sentence. He widened his eyes warningly. It was the signal to indicate they had unwanted company.

Malfoy sighed, understanding etched onto his features. "Yes, well, I need your help on how to throw off an Imperius."

Harry would admit he was impressed by Malfoy's quick change, but that would mean he was giving the git a compliment- and that was just not on. Even though there were quite a few complimentary things- er, right. Those thoughts weren't allowed.

They had learned to get along in the last week or so, if only to try and understand more about this...predicament they were in. It didn't mean Harry liked the boy. At all. He truly did not. Malfoy was Malfoy, regardless of how un-Malfoylike he had been since their eighth school year began.

Resigned to idle Defense homework, Harry pretended to help Malfoy.

They had been there for almost an hour when Malfoy slid a piece of parchment across the table over at Harry.

_Next time_, it read,_ we meet in the Room of Requirement. _

Harry could only nod wearily.

**##**##**

Ron and Harry tiredly made their way up to their beds after a particularly grueling homework session Hermione had put them through. Harry's neck ached from being bent over the books for three hours straight, his fingers cramped from holding his quill without pause. Times like these Harry wished wizards did the sensible things and used pens instead like Muggles.

Homework, along with research, and avoiding his father and his friends, Harry wanted nothing more than to burrow in his bed and not leave for hours.

Ron smiled wearily at Harry and opened the door with a tired groan which was, oddly enough, echoed from Sirius' bed. A bed that, now Harry looked more closely at, held not one but two people. Another low groan reverberated through the room, and Sirius- yes, that was definitely his long, dark hair- chuckled at the person underneath him.

Looking away didn't even occur to Harry. Even if it had, he didn't think he'd be able to, because...because under Sirius was none other than Remus, grinning at Sirius as though this was a regular occurrence.

Distantly, Harry heard Ron swear loudly. He too had seen the other- ahem, occupant.

Sirius and Remus looked up at them with something akin to horror. The moment stretched, silent and awkward and long in which Ron and Harry stared at Remus and Sirius and they at Harry and Ron. Harry swallowed, making sure to keep his eyes above their necks instead of following the curved arc of Sirius shoulder to his bare back until sheets covered both him and Remus at the hips.

With a strangled cough, Harry pulled Ron out back through the door. Muttered apologies so low he wasn't sure Remus and Sirius heard him. The door closed behind them with a click. Harry and Ron leaned against it, both breathing rather heavily.

On the other side he heard Remus shout at Sirius, "You forgot to lock the door!"

To which Sirius replied, "Well, I was a bit preoccupied, thanks."

Harry clenched his eyes shut against the images that hinted at what their preoccupation might have been. It shouldn't have been this arousing- shamefully so- to see his godfather and old Defense professor in a compromising situation. But it was. Dear gods above, it _was_. Harry only hoped Ron hadn't noticed anything.

"Did you know?" Ron gasped, just as red faced as Harry felt.

Harry shook his head frantically. "You?"

He jerked his head. Harry took that as a negative. They glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, understanding what the other was thinking. "Hermione," they said together.

As it turned out, Hermione- who, as far as Harry was concerned was all knowing about things like these- had not known either.

Harry stared at her when they related the incident and she only shook her head, blushing and shocked. And he could only wonder on one thing: why hadn't they ever told him?

He wanted to confront them, not the young Sirius and Remus, but the ones he had known. The ones who'd been his friends- more than friends; Mentors, father figures, teachers. But they were dead now, and he couldn't ask them. Couldn't rage and storm in indignation.

Could do nothing but wonder.

**##**##**

It was a week before Harry could look at Sirius and Remus and not feel embarrassed. Or worse, betrayed, even though neither boy from this time had done anything wrong.

He'd taken to avoiding them mostly. Taken refuge in the one place he wouldn't run into them.

"How is it?" Harry asked abruptly, turning yet another page of a book the Room of Requirement had provided when asked for any information pertaining to the Sphereix. So far, none of the books had been much help. It had been three weeks since they came here, and Harry was not enjoying it. At all.

"How is what, Potter?" Malfoy snapped irritably. He was going through a genealogy for some reason.

"How is it sleeping with Snape in the dormitory, knowing he's...dead?"

"How is it sleeping with not one, but four dead men, Potter?" came the snappy retort.

Harry smiled. He seemed to be doing that a lot around Malfoy lately. "Touche."

He observed the Slytherin out of the corner of his eye, taking in his changed appearance. Malfoy's blonde hair was darker now, no longer pale. More... golden. They grey in his eyes was overtaken by light flecks of blue, but all the other pointy features were the same; the chin, the nose, the jaw. He could easily make out the old Malfoy underneath the thin mask.

He wasn't the bad sort, really. Not anymore at any rate. War seemed to have changed Draco Malfoy. Then again, didn't it everyone?

Either way, Malfoy didn't sneer at the drop of a hat. Oh, he still managed to insult Harry and his intelligence at every turn, and Ron and he still had some familial jibes exchanged, but most of the bite that had stemmed their arguments long ago was gone. He no longer called Hermione Mudblood. He'd also secretly admitted to Harry- and threatened pain of the worst kind if he ever repeated it- that he was actually slightly more than intimidated by her.

It was just quarreling for quarrels sake now . Old habits died hard and all that.

It didn't make much sense staying enemies anymore. There were no more sides left to take. No wars to fight. An unsaid truce was formed wherein Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy got along with each other as best they could.

Malfoy, it turned out, was quite the conversationalist. Especially when it came to Quidditch and Seeker maneuvers. In fact, Harry looked forward to their conversations- which eventually turned into debates turned into disagreements.

Ron would call him mental, he knew, if he said that aloud.

_Enjoying Malfoy's company, Harry? Sure your dad didn't jinx you too bad at breakfast? _

Hermione would predictably sniff and say, _Well it's about time. You've been at each other's throats for years. _

And while it was a nice throat to be at, he'd agreed whole-heartedly with Hermione. Not that he noticed Malfoy's throat. But it _was_ nice. Like his chin. Pointy, but nice. And the eyes, Harry liked their color quite a lot, even though he preferred them grey. Not that he was saying he _preferred_ Malfoy's eyes. Not at all. It's just the color. It was a nice color. Very...nice.

"I've found it!" Malfoy's exclamation interrupted his musings. Harry jumped abruptly, trying to look anywhere but Malfoy's throat, or his eyes, or his chin. Or Malfoy in general, or he might flush a red worse than Ron.

"Found what?" Harry asked instead, acting as though he were busy looking at whatever he was reading in the book. Which was funny considering he had been looking at Malfoy the whole time he was supposed to be reading the book.

"Stop pretending to be good at research Potter and pay attention to me."

Harry swallowed and dragged his eyes to Malfoy's flushed and excited face. That flush was a little distracting. All right, quite a lot distracting, but he held firm. "What is it?"

"Do you remember how we were wondering how the Sphereix activated in the first place when I said the pair touching it needs to be of Black blood?"

"Yes," Harry said, looking at the genealogy clutched in Malfoy's hand. Nice hands, he noted absently. With long fingers. Long fingers that could- ahem.

Harry wondered whether Voldemort had indeed managed to permanently damage his brain. Surely noticing things like Malfoy's fingers and thinking they were nice wasn't something he'd done in the past.

"Well, Potter, I've found out the answer to that dilemma," Malfoy said smugly.

Harry sighed, unwilling to wait for Malfoy's dramatics today. "Spit it out, Malfoy."

Malfoy sighed. "Fine, take away all my thunder." He all but pouted like the petulant child he was. Harry had to pinch his lips to resist the smile that threatened to make itself known at the adorable picture.

Not that Harry was saying Malfoy was adorable. Because he wasn't. He was not thinking Malfoy was adorable.

Except during dinner last week when Harry had made Malfoy's gerbil run around the Charms classroom and the blonde had followed, trying to catch it before it escaped. His frown then had definitely been- well, ahem.

"It seems that in the spring of 1942, Dorea Black married none other than Charlus Potter, father of, as you might have guessed, one James Charlus Potter." A grinning Malfoy pushed the large tome toward Harry, opened at a page that read The Potter Legacy.

There at the very bottom was only one name: James Charlus Potter.

"So you see? You do have Black blood. In fact, you're one fourth Black! That's why the Sphereix activated when we touched it. It recognized us as the pair of Blacks."

"Oh God," Harry muttered weakly. Here. Here was his entire family's history going back to the Dark Ages to Ethelred Adwyn Potter. "I didn't even- never thought- gods, I must have passed by the tapestry at Grimmauld Place a thousand times and I- I never even saw this. Can you believe it? We're actually related!"

"Distantly, Potter." Malfoy shuddered. "Thank Merlin it's _very distantly_ related."

Yes, Harry was quite glad it was very distantly as well, although maybe fore slightly different reasons than Malfoy's. "We have to tell Ron and Hermione! Come on, they're probably at dinner right now."

Malfoy put the book in his bag and followed Harry out the Room of Requirement. And in their hurry, they never noticed the Stunners thrown at them.

_A/N: My bad, the Veritaserum decided it didn't want a cameo just yet. Told me it would like to be there for the next chapter. These darn potions, I tell you. What's a lowly author like me to do? But Remus and Sirius certainly had some fun times, didn't they? _

_Next time, James finally gets some answers, Harry and Draco bond, and invitations are made. _

_P.S: Read and review. Thanks.  
_


	4. In Which James Gets Some Answers

The next thing Harry knew was blearily waking up to someone tilting his head back and placing three drops of something on his tongue. Harry had already swallowed before he could comprehend what was happening. He squinted in the poorly lit room to find Malfoy's squirming form on a chair next to him. Tied.

"What the-" Harry blinked a few times more before concluding he too was tied to the chair.

"Nice of you to join us, Jameson."

Harry groaned. He would know that voice anywhere. "Sirius." It felt to weird to call Sirius and his father by their surnames. "What's going on?"

Now that his vision had cleared, he could tell they were in a classroom, most of the desks backed away. A few torches lined the walls, leaving most of the room in darkness. Even then, he could tell Malfoy, him, and the Marauders were the only ones in the room. Remus stood behind James and Sirius with Pettigrew.

"I think we'll ask the questions here, Jameson," James answered, slapping Malfoy into full awareness. "That's good. Now, which of you would like to go first?"

"Basic questions first, James, to make sure the potion is working."

Potion? Harry remembered the three drops on his tongue. The ones he had inadvertently swallowed. He gasped. "You've given us Veritaserum!"

"Very good, Jameson. You aren't as stupid as you look, then," Sirius sneered. And that just looked wrong on a face he had always expected nothing but kindness from.

"Oh Merlin," Malfoy whispered, the implications of this finally settling in. He struggled against his bonds. "You idiots!"

"Fine. Mallory it is then," James went on as if there had been no interruptions. "What is your name?"

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Harry tried to will Malfoy not to say the damning words.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy."

Too late.

"_What?"_ Sirius cried, his eyes wide as saucers. "What did you say?"

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy," he repeated.

"That isn't possible. There are no Malfoy's by that name," Sirius said.

"Are you saying your potion is faulty?" Malfoy shot back.

Sirius looked to James. "Of course not! It's from Slughorn's private stores."

"Then my answer is true," Malfoy said, glaring at Sirius.

James turned his probing gaze on Harry next. "What's your name then?"

"Oh _fuck_," Harry heard Malfoy whisper.

As hard as he tried, he could not stop the words from spilling forth. "Harry James Potter."

Damning words, Harry decided, were the fewest ones. Four pairs of stunned, incredulous eyes stared at him. But he really only wanted to seek out one pair: the hazel eyes. They were filled with disbelief, confusion, and no small amount of anger.

James was the first to accuse, to make angry gestures, to rant and stomp in a way that was eerily familiar to Harry. It wasn't until Malfoy pointed out they were under Veritaserum and it couldn't possibly faulty if they had indeed taken it from Slughorn's private stores did James pause, blinked. Once. Twice, before slumping against the wall with a loud expletive.

He stayed like that throughout Sirius and Remus' interrogation. They had been kind enough abstain from asking overtly detailed questions when Harry pleaded and told them they couldn't reveal much without risking the future.

Well, Sirius looked like he wanted to ask anyhow. A stern look from Remus stopped that. James left soon after without a word to anyone, and Harry could do nothing but watch him leave because he was still tied to the chair. By the time Sirius sheepishly released him and Malfoy, ignoring Malfoy's scowl, James was long gone.

Harry knew it would be better not to go searching for his father. Instead, he and Malfoy found Ron and Hermione in the library and relayed the whole story. Well, Malfoy relayed while Harry sat and sulked. There had to have been a better way for his father to find out Harry was indeed Harry, not Harvey.

Regardless of Dumbledore's and Hermione's warnings of how Harry couldn't tell his parents who he truly was, some part of Harry- the lonely, orphaned, child from the cupboard under the stairs- wanted them to know. Wanted them to find out and look at him with the adoration and love he had only ever received in the form of ghostly echo's in dire times of need. But this...this wasn't how he had hoped it would go.

There had been no time to soften the blow or emotionally shield himself should anything have gone wrong. And it had. It had gone so, so wrongly.

Ron and Hermione's reactions had been as Harry predicted. Ron only gaped while Hermione glared at nothing in particular. Harry was sure she was more angry he had let himself be caught and drugged than anything else but was too sympathetic to berate him about it. Even then, the slight frown on her face conveyed her true thoughts clearly. Harry just knew her that well.

**##**##**

James' gaze kept darting to Harry all throughout Transfiguration the next day. Lily, who sat next to him, gave him understanding looks. She too kept trying to catch a glimpse of Harry without letting him know she was looking.

James had told her, of course, of Harry's true identity. She had dismissed it as a joke the first few minutes before she noticed the four mirth free faces.

James didn't know much about Harry. Well, he knew the basics now. How they were from the future and had to get back as soon as possible so they didn't mess up the time lines. That the object that brought them here was taken from Sirius' family vault. James had wanted to ask why his son was in the Black family vaults, but ultimately decided he didn't want to know.

Mostly, they had just stayed away from questions in general while the two boys were under the effects from the Truth Potion. Harry had pleaded they not ask anything for fear of what he might reveal and change in the future.

It was difficult trying to reconcile the boy whose life he had tried to make a living hell to...his son.

He was younger than Harry, for Merlin's sake! It was just too... weird!

So lost was he in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize class had been dismissed until Lily tugged on his sleeve, pulling him out the door to their next class: Defense. It was another class they had with the Slytherins, and he watched as Harry immediately migrated toward his Slytherin friend, greeting him with a small nod.

They were studying dementors and the Patronus Charm today. James watched as Malfoy smirked at Harry, whispered something. Harry whispered back, and threw a glance at Remus, then whispered something more.

Remus looked alarmed at the glance, but didn't comment on it.

"...and since Mr. Jameson seems so informed on the subject, maybe he can tell the class what a Patronus Charm is," Professor Pennyheart, a straggly- haired, middle aged man with the ugliest glasses James had ever seen, announced to the class, his malicious eyes on Harry.

James felt anger surge in him at the unfair treatment the man regularly put Harry through, today being no exception. Before today, James had reveled in the few moments in which Jameson was put on the spot. Today, he just felt livid.

Before he could voice his protestations of the unfair treatment, Harry spoke up in an almost lazy drawl.

"A Patronus is a shield between the caster and the dementor. One has to fuel it by using a happy memory. Dementors feed on positive emotions, but because a Patronus represents all that is good and pure but has no emotions for the dementor to feed off of it is the perfect barrier between the human and a dementor."

It was a perfect answer, James knew. There was no fault with it, and even Pennyheart seemed to realize this, because he turned an interesting shade of red before snapping, "Clearly you know how to cast the spell. Perhaps you should demonstrate, Mr. Jameson."

Now James was certain this was only to belittle Harry. Most fully grown wizards couldn't accomplish such a complex spell, let alone a seventeen year old still in school. But Harry only rolled his eyes and strode to the middle of the class, oozing confidence.

Ron and Hermione were grinning widely. Malfoy's face was set in his trademark smirk, but even he seemed to know Harry had nothing to be nervous about.

James felt a warm feeling bubble in his chest. He decided it would be best not to evaluate right now.

Harry looked at Pennyheart steadily. "Do you have a boggart, Professor?"

"What?"

"Do you have a boggart that will be able to turn into a dementor to present a bit of a challenge or should I just cast the spell?"

"Just cast the spell, Jameson."

Harry shrugged, turned to face the class. He gave James an apologetic look. Why, James didn't understand, but both Ron and Hermione were staring expectantly.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

A white stag burst from Harry's wand, cantered around the room once, twice, lighting the entire room with it's bright white light before vanishing, taking it's ethereal glow with it.

"Blimey!" Sirius, who was sitting behind James, muttered. James nodded mutely.

Most of the class- with the exception of Slytherins- looked impressed at their classmate's ability to conjure a corporeal patronus. Pennyheart, on the other hand, seemed to get even more angry. He ordered Harry back to his seat.

Harry turned around in his seat to look at James. James smiled back at him.

**##**##**

Harry waited until the boys in the dormitory were asleep before slipping out. It was past midnight, the hallways were all empty. Years of nighttime wanderings made it easy for him to navigate to castle to his destination. Harry knew the castle, knew the turns and corners and secret passages. Moving through the familiar corridors was second nature to him now. It was almost too easy even without the Cloak.

He eased open the door to the Astronomy Tower, thankfully finding it empty. It was a bit chilly up here, but not unpleasant. Harry preferred the cold air to the warmth of his dormitory.

It had been almost a month since their arrival in 1997, and Harry feared they would never find a way to go back. Sphereix' were somehow rarer than bloody Horcruxes for all the information that was available about them. Or, more likely, not many people had ever heard of the artifact to research it. Either way, they were stuck in 1997 for another month or more.

Sometimes, when he was in class, or sitting in the common room with Sirius, and Remus, and his parents, he asked himself whether he really wanted to leave. Remembered that he really had nothing in the future except for a large decrepit house, an even more decrepit house-elf, and bank vaults he didn't know what to use for.

There were Ron and Hermione, and the Weasleys.

But no, another voice would reason, there was Teddy. Teddy who needed him. Teddy, who would grow up with no parents like him, but whom Harry had promised to surround with the love and protection he had never received as a child. If for nothing else, he would go for Teddy. Remus would want him to.

"Star-gazing, Potter?"

Harry smiled into the darkness. He would know that voice anywhere. He wondered when that happened. "Come to join me, Malfoy?"

He heard the footsteps come closer until Malfoy was standing next to him. "Not particularly, no. You've taken my usual spot."

Harry found he wasn't really that surprised Malfoy made regular visits to the Astronomy Tower. "It's nice up here. Quiet."

The other man made an assenting noise. "Missing the Weaslette?"

Harry made a choked sound between a laugh and snort. "Ginny? Gods no. Nothing to miss, really."

"Ouch."

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing against Ginny. We've just... we haven't been together for a while now."

"Really? Could have fooled me, what with all the hand holding and the nausea inducing googly eyes."

Harry smiled, remembering how they exaggerated their 'relationship' in public. Ginny wasn't his girlfriend. She was his cover, his shield against the outside world for as long as possible. As long as he was dating Ginny Weasley, the wizarding world would keep their psychotic proposals and speculations to a minimum. And it worked for Ginny as well. Molly had become overly protective of her daughter since...everything that had happened. The Weasley matriarch trusted Harry, knew he wouldn't let anything harm Ginny- which he wouldn't let happen even without any other relation than she was his best friend's sister.

Once the school year ended and Ginny left to train with the Harpies, Harry and she would 'break up.' it would work out for everyone. So far, only Ron and Hermione knew and while they didn't approve of it, they didn't say anything.

Harry explained this to Malfoy, to which he nodded thoughtfully before asking, "Why?" At Harry's questioning glance he elaborated. "Why aren't you in a real relationship with her?"

Ah, that. He didn't like to think about that. He didn't know what it was either, really. All he knew was that once all the funerals were done, and Fred, Tonks, and Remus were buried, and he held her, he felt... something was missing. Like she wasn't enough. Like he needed more than just Ginny. And she had agreed, said she needed something more than just Harry. And at the end of the day, after all the attacks, and losses, and pain, that was all he was really. Just Harry, the wizard.

So they decided on the fake relationship. And then he started noticing men.

"Things changed," he told Malfoy.

He hadn't told anyone about his self-revelation. Didn't know how anyone would react, really. But sometime while lying in Sirius' old bed at Grimmauld Place for the fourth weekend running he'd decided to take a walk through London. Disguised, of course. And in between remembering Sirius, and Remus, and thinking about Teddy, he found himself in front of a Muggle club.

A _gay_ Muggle club. Which he went into on a whim. And it had been _fun_. Being open about who he was without the burden of a scar or his name. To watch the sensually moving bodies, the liberal amounts of alcohol. All of it. Harry had enjoyed every minute of it. While he wasn't yet ready to admit it to anyone else, he'd admitted to himself. That was all that mattered.

"Changed?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Changed." He turned to look at the boy- no, man- next to him. "Change is good, right? Abeo?"

"Abeo." Malfoy said. A pause, then he smirked. "Look at you, Potter, having a heart to heart with a Death Eater at the scene of his crime."

"Ex-Death Eater," Harry said firmly. Fiercely. "Ex."

Malfoy looked taken aback, but he nodded in agreement. "Ex."

**##**##**

Harry didn't usually pay attention the Headmaster. Actually, he mostly tended to avoid the man as a general rule. Both he and Malfoy did, albeit for different reasons. Any Time Travel related communication was done solely through Hermione, and although she had begged him to come in the beginning, she had stopped now, seeming to realize he would never relent.

But today, oh today he paid attention. And heard.

"We can't stay here for the holidays? That's bullshit! Where are we supposed to go?" Harry cried to Ron and Hermione sitting on either side of him.

James, who was sitting across from him with Lily and Sirius on either side, looked at him as though he'd completely lost his mind. "Don't be stupid. You'll come home with me."

"We will?" Ron asked, just as confounded as Harry.

"Yes, of course. Mum's already been told. It'll be fun! Padfoot will be there as well," James said enthusiastically. At this, Sirius enthusiastically nodded his head, mouth too full to actually speak.

Harry's heart sank. James' mother meant...Harry's grandmother. The one he had never met. He really didn't think his time here could get any worse.

"Erm, excuse me," Hermione spoke up to ask the very question Harry had been pondering on. "But...where exactly is home?"

"Where-" James choked. He looked at Harry wildly, eyes brimming with questions Harry knew he would never be able to answer. "Carmarthan, of course! Potter Estate. Don't tell me- you've- didn't you grow up there?"

Inexplicably, Harry flushed, unable to answer that without giving himself away. It would be too easy to tell James he didn't know about the Potter Estate, much less it was in _Carmarthan_. But it would mean revealing more than he should.

"Er...not exactly," Harry said hurriedly. "I'd- uhm- forgotten. And...yeah." He finished lamely.

It was a piss poor answer, but if James suspected anything- which, judging by how he narrowed his eyes at Harry, he did- he didn't say anything more on the subject other than, "Well, you are coming."

Next to him, Lily sighed sadly. "At least you don't have to spend your holidays listening to Petunia and her whale of a boyfriend make disgusting eyes at each other."

Harry, all too familiar of Christmas with Petunia and Vernon, shuddered. Lily sighed once more before heading off to her Ancient Runes class with Hermione and Remus. Lily's seat was taken almost immediately by Malfoy.

Harry transferred his grin from their retreating backs to the blonde before realizing a) this was Malfoy, and b)...this was Malfoy. Regardless of their little...moment at the Astronomy Tower- which Harry still denied ever happened- he was not supposed to grin happily at Malfoy.

Smirk, yes. Taunt, definitely. Smile widely as though Malfoy was the best thing he had seen all morning?

No.

Malfoy seemed to notice his slightly idiotic smile too, for he paused mid-sentence and stared at Harry as if he had grown two extra heads. Like Fluffy.

"Have you finally lost what little brains you were in possession of, Jameson?" Malfoy asked when Harry still did not drop the ridiculous smile. "Or is smiling like a daft Hufflepuff just one of your many non-existent charms?"

Now he did though, because he couldn't let a taunt like that go unanswered. Well, he intended for it to be an answering jibe. What came out was more along the lines of, "Didn't know you kept track of my charms, Mallory." And no, Harry most certainly did not lean over the table or lower his voice or gaze at Malfoy's stunned face. Nor did he flush brilliantly to rival even Ron or notice Malfoy's red tinged cheeks either.

He truly did not.

Across from him, Sirius' eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline while Ron coughed awkwardly. James had been too busy watching Lily leave- thank gods!- and didn't notice Harry's absolutely _innocent_- despite Sirius' eyebrow wiggling- comment.

It was! And could Sirius please stop grinning like the cat that got the cream, please?

Dog, his useless mind unhelpfully supplied.

_A/N: Oh my, what was _that?_ That, dearies, was Harry inadvertently telling Draco Malfoy he wanted to get him naked and- ah, but that's for another time, yes? _

_Do tell what you thought of this chapter, thanks. _

_Much Love. _

_P.S: Hope everyone from the States had a Happy Thanksgiving!  
_


	5. Whence Epiphanies Are Had

Harry stared at the blank parchment before him. Actually, no. That wasn't right. The parchment did have some words on it. His name, for one. And the topic of their essay: and overly complicated questions about poisons and antidotes and tinctures that evaded Harry. It all sounded vaguely familiar, but without Hermione here, he had no idea how to go about writing the essay.

With nothing better to do than stare at an almost blank parchment, Harry cast a bored gaze around the Gryffindor common room when his eyes locked onto a bent auburn head.

Of course. There was someone else who could help him in his time of Potions ineptitude. Collecting his supplies, Harry plopped himself next to Lily, across from James.

"I hate potions," he declared without preamble. "I _hate_ it, and I hate that I haven't inherited the obviously superior intellect- for _potions_," Harry added at James' indignant "Oi!" Because really, James was worse at it than Harry, and that was saying something. "And I have no idea how I scraped a bloody E on it during O.W.L.s, so yes. I need your help."

Lily's eyes danced in amusement. "You could have just said you needed help."

"Yes. Well. That would have been too simple."

Lily laughed and leaned closer to help with a quite, "Of course."

It was a pleasant evening. Almost...domestic. Harry was suddenly hit with the realization that _this _was how it would have been had his parents not died. His mother helping him with homework while his father...uh- just gazed a little stupidly at his mother.

Honestly, it was embarrassing to admit his father actually made eyes at his mother. Like Ron and Hermione. And that was just disturbing on a whole different level considering what Ron and Hermione did right after they were done making eyes- and Harry had left, of course.

_Very_ disturbing, that.

Harry went up to bed shortly thereafter, having successfully completed the impossible essay. He pretended not to notice when James sighed out a low, "Finally," and nudged Lily with his elbow. Deciding now would be a good time to leave, Harry hurried up to the dorm. He was the only one up there. Sirius and Wormtail were...off doing something, while Remus said he wanted to research something in the library, and Ron was with Hermione doing things Harry didn't want to think about.

He stripped quickly and landed on the the bed gracelessly. He hadn't even known he was so tired. Sleep came almost immediately to him, and for that he was thankful.

For the first time in weeks, Harry didn't dream.

The next night found Harry in the library with Malfoy, working on his Defense essay Pennyheart had assigned them. Oddly, Harry enjoyed sitting with Malfoy, even though he could never fully relax around the blonde, but the atmosphere wasn't as tense as it had been in the past. It kept Harry on his toes. And he liked that.

A little bit more than he should, quite frankly. Lately he found himself spending more and more time with Malfoy whenever Ron and Hermione were not around. He _volunteered_ to spend time with the git. As in he suggested they _work together_. Alone. Just him and Harry.

The other day he had found the time he spent with Malfoy_ peaceful_. And that was just wrong on so, so many levels.

It was like imagining a weak Dudley or stupid Hermione. It was just not _done._

Harry involuntarily glanced up at Malfoy out of the corner of his eyes. His head was bent down, hair brushing the top of his eyebrows, the tip of his pink tongue stuck out of one corner of his mouth before it dragged across his lips slowly leaving them glistening.

The image was highly arousing.

And no, Harry just did not think that. At all.

He tore his gaze away from Malfoy and felt his neck heat up. Harry coughed uncomfortably, squirmed in his seat, coughed some more and felt heat pool in his spine.

Oh _God,_ this was not happening.

He could not be hard because of _Malfoy._ It wasn't even his real face!

"Potter, will you stop _fidgeting_. It is very distracting," Malfoy hissed across the table.

Harry jerked backwards and almost toppled out of his chair. He blushed scarlet when Malfoy looked at him as though he had grown three heads.

"Er-" he roved his eyes around to look at anything but Malfoy. All he found were shelves and shelves of books.

Books were good. Books were...on shelves. And not blonde. Or attractive. Or looking at him as though he had lost his mind.

Which he probably had, considering his current-um...nether situation.

Books, books, books. Very nice books.

Harry chanced glance at Malfoy and instantly cursed himself. Malfoy quirked his eyebrow at Harry. His pink tongue darted out once more to-

Bloody hell, did he _have_ to lick his lips so often?

Books, Harry reminded himself. Books, books, books. Pretty books. Like pretty lips. Lips he was not thinking about.

"Potter?"

"Huh?" Harry said stupidly, refusing to look at Malfoy. He pressed the heel of his palm against the strain in his crotch under the table, now hard as rock.

Fuck, he needed to get out of here.

"I asked if you were more touched in the head than normal?" Malfoy spoke slowly, enunciating each word as though speaking to a four year old.

Harry tried to glare witheringly at the blonde, but it didn't work so well seeing how he was staring at the _History of Goblins circa 1695_ as though it held all the answers to the world.

"Fine," he snapped. "Just...um, I have to-" _find the nearest loo so I can toss myself off and try not to think about your fucking lips or fucking your lips, either wor- _No! He couldn't very well say that, could he? "Um- I said I'd meet Ron and Hermione in the- I should- I'll see you later."

With that dismal excuse he packed his sack and hurried out of the library with an awkward gait, feeling Malfoy's gaze linger on him the entire time. He made sure to keep his sack in the front to avoid further embarrassment.

Once safely out of sight, Harry leaned against the wall and threw his bag down. He ran a weary hand over his eyes. "This _cannot_ be happening," he said loudly to the suit of armor across from him.

It only groaned and clanked in response. Very rude of it, Harry thought.

**##**##**

"Jameson! Leswey!" Pennyheart's voice rang loudly through the Defense classroom.

James swore he could hear Hermione groan loudly as the deceptively innocent boys looked at their professor, hands behind their backs.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked mildly, and if James didn't recognize the tone himself, he would truly thing Harry had done no wrong.

"Since you are so fond of creating a distraction in my class, detention. Friday. And twelve inches on the Unforgivable Curses by tomorrow," Pennyheart snapped.

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry said a quiet, "Yes, Professor," and cast a warning look at his best friend.

When class was over, James saw Harry and Ron leave with Hermione, the latter berating them for getting yet another detention from Pennyheart while Draco rolled his eyes and made a scathing remark about Gryffindors. James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus followed behind them. Lily stayed behind to ask the professor some questions about her homework.

"Blimey, Harr- Harvey," Ron said as he turned into a deserted corridor. "What is it with Defense professors out to get you?"

"Just part of my natural charm." Harry grinned. "Intimidated by my superior knowledge on the subject, no doubt."

Hermione frowned disapprovingly. She seemed to do that a lot, James found out. It must be the number one reason she and Lily got on so well. "You really shouldn't bait him like that, Harry."

"And where would be the fun in that?" Sirius cut in with a wide grin. He walked up to the foursome and draped his arms around Harry. "I swear the man hates you more than he hates us-" he pointed to James and himself. "Frankly, I'm proud."

"Thank you, Sirius. See Hermione, he's proud of me."

Hermione shifted her frown to Sirius. "Yes, well. It is _Sirius_," she sniffed.

Sirius blinked, pouting as Remus, Harry, James, and Draco laughed. "What's that supposed to mean, then?"

Hermione averted her gaze, face red.

"Nothing," said Harry.

James rolled his eyes. "_Right_. Well, I've got a Quidditch team to shape up for the next four hours or so. I'll see you lot at dinner." He noticed Harry's wistful glance out through the nearest window. Grinning, he added, "I could use some help training my Seeker."

Harry immediately brightened, earning a eye-roll from Draco.

An hour later James knew asking Harry to come along had been a brilliant idea. There was something about Harry's expression when he took to the air that made James himself love flying all that more. It was pure joy that drove Harry; his movements had a fluidity that eve James had trouble perfecting.

As much as he would like to think his son- and wasn't it funny he could think that without choking up?- had learned everything about flying from him him, James knew much of it was natural, raw talent.

James was taking a moment to watch his team from the stands instead of playing along with them. He watched as Harry helped James' Seeker, a young Fourth Year, do one of his dives that made Seeking such a thrill.

"He's amazing," James muttered more to himself than anyone else, but Remus- nearest to him- heard.

He along with Ron had decided to watch practice as well. They were the only ones in the stands, the weather being too cold to sit around and do nothing. Although James suspected Remus' eyes lingered more on Sirius with the Beater's bat than anyone else. Not that they had said anything- secretive bastards- but James had his suspicions.

Remus hummed in agreement. "Ron said he was made youngest Seeker in a century in his First Year."

James had not known that. In fact, he did not know much about Harry in general. He was always so tight lipped about everything. Always avoided most of James's questions or gave vague answers all under the guise of not wanting to change the future. The things he did know were few and far between, but James was okay with that. He knew he couldn't know everything. And besides, he'd always see his son when they went back to the future.

James was about to say something in response but Harry flew over just then.

"Hey," he breathed, grinning happily, face flushed from the late November wind.

"You were brilliant out there," James said, glancing at his own Seeker. "I'd put you on if I didn't already have a Seeker."

If possible, Harry flushed even more at the compliment and muttered a quiet "Thank you."

James took the moment to note the stark contrast between himself and his son. If he had been complimented, he would have puffed out his chest and blustered out a "Of _course_ I was brilliant."

Harry on the other hand...well, he was like Lily. Confident and proud but shy and quiet and modest most of the time.

"James in amazing too. I'm pretty sure he'd give Ginny a run for her money," Ron piped up from behind James and Remus.

Harry was about to say something to that when Draco's voice sounded almost out of nowhere.

"Come now, Weasley, you can't make Potter choose between his own father and his girlfriend," he drawled, smirking at Harry's glare.

"Girlfriend?" James perked up immediately. He had most certainly _not_ known that, and judging by the daggers Harry threw at the blonde, he was willing to bet Harry didn't _want_ James to know that.

Behind him, Ron sniggered. "Go on, Harry. Tell them." Harry turned his glare to his best friend.

"Yes," Remus joined in. "Do tell."

"I hate you both," Harry gritted out, spun his broom around and flew off.

James grinned, vowing to find out about this girlfriend.

_A/N: Ah, love it when James goes on a fact finding mission. Poor Harry, he's going to have a hard time trying to keep James off his scent. Oh well, he can try, but James will get the answers he wants, won't you James?_

_**James: Why yes, of course I will. I shan't rest until I have wrangled it out from him. **_

_There you go, folks. James will not rest. Lovely! Well, thank you for reading and leave a review telling me what you liked or didn't, thanks. _


	6. In Which Mother And Son Talk

"So."

Harry looked up from yet another Time Travel book at Lily's smirking face. She sounded awfully smug, Harry thought, which worried him, quite frankly. And her maniacal smirking was oddly familiar.

"Hello, Lily," he said, putting the book away. He had learned long ago that ignoring his mother was not a Good Idea. In fact, it was a very, very Bad Idea. She didn't take kindly to being ignored, not that he had experienced the consequences first hand. Just witnessed the emasculation of one James Potter.

"James tells me you have a girlfriend."

Ah. That. He really would kill Draco Malfoy one of these days. Successfully, this time. Without the guilt. Bastard. Difficult to think he had only been hard for the arse two days ago and was now cursing his very existence. Again.

"Did James tell you that whoever told him will be suffering a long and painful death, and that I will chop of their head at the end, fill it with sawdust and mount it on the wall."

Lily laughed. "No. Although I don't think Narcissa will much like you killing her son."

"She should be bloody grateful, she should. Prick that he is."

"_Language_." She rapped him sharply across the knuckles with her wand. "Honestly, this is Sirius' fault, isn't it? Must be. Can't control his mouth, that one. I'd certainly never allow it."

Harry couldn't help but smile stupidly. He'd never been reprimanded for language. By his mother.

"Well." Harry grinned, looking across the common room where James and Sirius were battling over a cushion even though there were ten others at hand. "They do say young men look to their elders. Role models."

Not entirely untrue. Harry did look up to both James and Sirius, despite their deaths and faults Snape always enumerated on.

Lily followed his gaze. "Yes. _Fine_ role models indeed," she drawled. She snapped her attention back to Harry quickly. "But don't think you can distract me from my mission. Tell me, who is this girlfriend and why haven't I heard of it before."

Blushing furiously, Harry ducked his head and mumbled something incomprehensible even to himself.

Lily leaned even closer, looking like a dog on the hunt for particularly juicy bone. "What was that?"

"I said-" He glanced around the crowded common room. His father and godfather were still halfway through their wrestling match; Ron and Hermione were with Remus, Hermione gesturing enthusiastically to Remus while Ron sat with a glazed look on his face. "Not here."

He gathered his books and led the way up to the boys dormitory. No one spared them a glance. Lily sat herself on James' bed with the same curious grin, eyes lighting in amusement when Harry threw his books on his own bed and began pacing. Thinking how much he could truly tell her.

Saying _I'm Harry Potter and have to be with someone to keep the wizarding population off my back_ would not work so splendidly. Neither would _You know Rita Skeeter? Yes, the very same. She writes articles about me and won't leave me alone and_-

No.

So Harry mumbled the first words that came to mind. "We're not. Not anymore- not for a while. Ginny's just...everyone thinks we are, but Ron and Hermione know we're not." And Harry was just going around and around in circles trying to explain without giving too much away. "It's not- she and I act like we are...erm."

Miraculously, Lily did not look confused. If possible, she looked at Harry understandingly. It was a look he had longed for his entire life. Something warmed in his chest. It was a bittersweet moment; one where he knew it wouldn't happen again when he left. But he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

So it shouldn't have been a shock when Harry quite abruptly blurted "I'm gay!" and clapped his hands over his mouth.

Because really, that was just brilliant. Coming out to his seventeen year old mother; truly he was the master of right timing.

Lily blinked. Once. Twice. Stared some more at Harry and then laughed.

Harry wasn't sure whether to be offended or relieved. This wasn't exactly the reaction he had been excepting, certainly not from his own mother; the first person he had revealed his...preferences to.

He decided on a cross between the two, leaving him with just utterly confused.

"Erm." Yes, he was just that eloquent.

"Oh- oh-" Lily was bent over, clutching her stomach and wiping at her eyes.

Really, it wasn't that funny, what he said. Was it? "What-?"

"You thought- that- that I did- didn't _know?"_

No, Harry wanted to say. _"What?"_ was what he actually said.

"It's so-" Lily gasped once more and straightened up. Her giggles died down. "So _obvious. _The way you stare at-_" _She cut herself off. "It was just obvious."

Well, then. Harry pouted. "Huh."

There was a few moments of silence where Lily continued to stare at him with a small smile on her face. "So. No one knows, I'm assuming?"

Harry shook his head frantically.

"Not even Ron and Hermione?"

"Not even. You're the first one I've told."

Lily cocked her head to the side. "Have you told me in the future?"

Harry's heart clenched. He wished he could say yes. Yes, he had told her. But he couldn't. "It's a fairly recent discovery," he answered as truthfully as he could.

"Ah." Lily nodded wisely. "This...Ginny, then. What about her?"

"A cover," Harry explained. Although not the actual reason, it was close enough.

"That means she knows."

"I suppose. She sort of...figured it out." She hadn't really, but it was better to let Lily think so. Harry began pacing again. "So we're not really dating, but everyone thinks we are." Except for Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy, but saying that would make his fairly simple story fall apart. "Malfoy only mentioned her because he knew how the others would not let up about it. Enjoys torturing me, that one- what?" Harry frowned as Lily's smile grew into a wide grin.

"He's not all bad, is he?"

"Well-" No, Harry surmised. He wasn't all bad, not anymore if the stupid restless feeling he had in the pit of his stomach every time the blonde git was around was anything to go by.

Yes, all right, he might find Malfoy decently attractive. And quite possibly very, very hot when he chewed on his quill while working on a particularly difficult essay. He might also be distracting to be around when his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes. Which _might _make Harry's palms itch to push the hair away.

But that did not in any way mean anything more than Harry's erm- _hormones_ acting up. Really, it was just physical attraction.

Nothing more.

At all.

Nope.

"Yeah," Harry told Lily. "He's not all bad."

Lily looked liked she wanted to say something more but Ron had burst into the room with a "Coming to dinner?" dropped off his books and waited by the door for them.

They went down together with Hermione. Harry barely paid any attention to the light conversation going on around him, so invested was he in most certainly _not_ keeping one eye on the Great Hall entrance for a familiar blonde head.

He saw it however, a few minutes later accompanied by another person with dark hair. For a moment he thought it was Sirius before realizing Sirius was sitting right next to him. Instead of joining Harry- and the others- at the Gryffindor table as usual, Malfoy went to Slytherin table with his new acquaintance.

The person looked vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn't place where he had seen him, no matter how hard he stared (glared) at boy. His back was to Harry so he was having an even harder time. Dinner forgotten, Harry racked his brain for an answer. It was- unsurprisingly- Hermione who came to his rescue.

"Harry. _Harry,"_ she hissed (quite loudly, might he add), tugging at his sleeve. "Harry that's Regulus!"

At the mention of his brother's name, Sirius' head snapped up, a rare scowl fixed on his face.

Hermione looked chagrined, but still she nodded her head to the person sitting next to Malfoy. And yes, it was Regulus Black: Sirius' brother, and the man who- unknowingly- had helped Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their quest.

Sirius looked at each of them. "You know Regulus." It wasn't a question.

"You told me about him," Harry replied quickly. "When I asked if you had any siblings. Complained about him, really."

"Oh," said Sirius, and that was that. He didn't say anything more on the subject, although he did glance one more time at his estranged brother.

He then proceeded to needle Harry some more about Ginny. Harry avoided the questions quite skillfully, if he did say so himself, even with Lily right there grinning at him.

Sometime around dessert, Malfoy plonked himself down at the Gryffindor table, face flushed from- something. Harry involuntarily glared- stared- at Regulus Black's back walking out of the Great Hall.

"Did you know Regulus Black was a-"

"Malfoy," Hermione gritted out warningly.

Malfoy only waved a dismissive hand. "Keep your knickers on. I was only going to ask if you knew he was a Seeker."

"Yes," Harry grunted unthinkingly without sparing Malfoy a glance, stabbing his pie viciously with his fork. "Saw a team picture in his room at Grimmauld Place."

This earned his another long stare from Sirius. "What the bloody hell were you doing at Grimmauld Place?" he demanded as Hermione lobbed one of her Looks at him.

The one that said Well-Done-You've-Scewed-Up. It was usually reserved for Ron, but Harry had found himself on the receiving end a couple of times as well.

James, Remus, and Peter were staring at him quite intently as well. Lily, likely unaware of what Grimmauld Place was, looked bemused.

"Uh...It- well-" Harry gulped, hoping an answer- a fake answer- would occur to him quickly.

"You inherited it," Ron was the one to answer, looking at Harry as he spoke. "And you wanted help cleaning the dump after your mum died. We were there too. Harry invited us to give you lot a hand. And then- then you gave it to Harry for his sixteenth birthday after all the Dark stuff was removed." He nodded as though to make this statement sound convincing.

Hermione nodded too, kicked Harry under the table to nudge him into saying _something. _

"Yeah," said Harry. "What Ron said."

Sirius looked like he wanted to ask a few more questions. He looked suspiciously between the three of them for a few more moments before smiling. "Can't imagine your parents being happy with you having your own house at sixteen."

Harry smiled back, if a bit sadly. "They weren't best pleased, but I have this really nice godfather who wouldn't let them get their way."

"Yes, godfathers do tend to be quite amazing." Sirius preened and James hit him upside the head, gave an eye-roll and muttered, "Conceited bastard," and Grimmauld Place was forgotten.

Harry didn't know whether to be thankful or amused at Sirius and his father's obvious short attention span. Judging by Hermione's relieved sigh and Ron's head shake, they were thinking the same thing.

It was quite a happy moment, Harry thought, until Malfoy started talking about Regulus's Seeking skills again. Then Harry just wanted to hex someone. Preferably Regulus.

**##**##**

James entered the dormitory the night before they were scheduled to leave for the holidays to find it in complete chaos with Harry in the middle. Clearly, his thoughts of taking a quick shower and going to bed were not happening. Harry threw more clothes out of the borrowed trunk Dumbledore had given him, frantically muttering on and on about how he had "Lost it. I've lost it!"

"What. The. _Bloody_. _Hell_?" That was Remus. And Remus almost never cursed, so when he did curse the others knew it was for a good reason.

Ron, as baffled as them, stood next to Harry with a slightly apologetic look on his face. "Er. He's lost something."

"We gathered." Sirius scrunched his nose and he removed what looked like Harry's boxers from his bed post.

Remus, the perpetually neat and tidy- unnaturally so for a seventeen year old boy- person, looked aghast at the mess Harry had made. He waded through the clothes littering the dormitory floor. "What exactly are you searching for?"

"The picture," Harry's muffled voice sounded from where he was crawled under Sirius' bed. "Ow!" His head hit the underside of said bed, and then he sneezed and added something that sounded distinctly like, "Are these Cockroach Clusters under here?"

Sirius looked vaguely guilty. His Cockroach Cluster phase had been back in Fourth Year.

"What picture?" James, not willing to be distracted by bits of clothing and books and quills, asked.

"Teddy's picture." Harry came out from underneath the bed, coughing and removing the dust bunnies from his hair.

James, for some inexplicable reason, deduced his son was obviously an over-grown child if he carried pictures of his teddies twenty years in the past and set a tornado loose in their dormitory. He said as much.

Harry glared at him, unimpressed. Really, whatever happened to showing your elders respect? "Teddy, my _godson_," he said and immediately looked like he regretted it.

"Godson?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Bit young for your friends to be having kids, don't you think?"

"He's- uh-" Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Their eyes swiftly traveled to Remus before looking away again.

Remus, busy clearing floor space around his bed, didn't notice, neither did Sirius, but James had.

"He's the son of an...older friend," Ron supplied, and once again, glanced so quickly at Remus James would have missed it had he blinked.

"Whose?" he asked, frowning at the two Time Travelers.

"We can't tell," Harry gave the standard answer. "Sorry."

James sighed, ran a weary hand through his hair. It was always the same answer, no matter what they asked. Most of their questions were pushed aside or ignored completely. Harry's conviction in the apology made it clear they wouldn't get any answers out of either him or Ron.

"Aha!" Harry found the small photograph in question under his bed's front leg. He looked around the room and pocketed the photograph quickly. "Must have fallen out of the robes I wore when we Traveled here."

James wanted to ask whether Harry always kept a picture of his godson on him, but the closed off look on Harry's face told him he wouldn't get any answers he wanted.

It was just one of the many things he knew he wasn't told about- that thing about Harry's girlfriend, for one thing. He _still_ hadn't told James- and despite knowing he should well leave it alone, James wanted to find out.

Two weeks spent at Potter Estate would provide him ample opportunity.

_A/N: Next up: We meet the Potter Grandparents. Finally! I'm quite excited about that. Thanks for reading. :D_


	7. Grandparents Are Introduced

Harry was stalling. Harry knew he was stalling.

And yes, alright, he was also lurking in the Entrance Hall staring at two Slytherin boys off in the corner wondering what they were talking about.

But he didn't ask. Because he did _not_ care.

Sirius crashed into him from behind, unapologetic. "Come on, then. To the carriages."

Harry spared one last glance at the huddled forms of Malfoy and Regulus, and followed Sirius to the carriages. Harry stopped by the thestrals, having developed an odd fondness for the creatures. Yes, he wished he was not able to see them, but they weren't all bad.

"You can see them." It was Remus, looking at the thestral over Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Who did you see die?" Remus asked warily as though afraid of the answer.

Too many, Harry wanted to say. "A friend," he said instead. Because they were. They were all friends.

Hermione and Ron heard him. They looked back, understanding in their eyes. They had been able to see thestrals too, since that awful day at Hogwarts.

Hermione walked back from the carriage door and took Harry's hand. "Come on, Harry," she said, and led him to the carriage.

"It's always the friends," Remus' voice carried to him.

Harry wanted to ask, to know who Remus had seen. But he wouldn't. Instead he paused, looked back. "Yes."

They rode to the station, climbed aboard. And no, Harry did not hold onto the notion that Malfoy would sit with them- because he now had his stupid friend Regulus. If snakes made friends, that was, Harry thought and instantly felt guilty about his uncharitable thoughts. And then felt angry about feeling guilty.

Why should he feel guilty about thinking thoughts about Malfoy?

Harry was at perfect liberty to think. About Malfoy. Yes, he was. He was also allowed to pout when he saw Malfoy walk past their compartment with Regulus Black. Without sparing Harry a glance. That was just rude, it was.

So Harry pouted. And pouted some more, and then he sulked. But he most certainly did not stop thinking about Malfoy. Because he could. Because he was Harry fucking Potter.

His musings on Malfoy lasted until the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station. Then he realized he was about to meet his paternal grandparents for the first time in a few hours, and then led to a whole host of new thoughts.

What were his grandparents like? Were they as old as he had imagined them to be? Were the everything parents were supposed to be?

James had said his parents didn't care how many friends he brought home. The more the merrier seemed to be the Potter motto. This Harry could identify with, having left most of his life isolated from people before Hogwarts.

Harry was anxious to meet them, but wary at the same time.

Earlier in the week, Remus had sensed Harry's discomfort when James expounded on the many wonders of Potter Estate. He didn't ask any questions he knew Harry wouldn't be able to answer. Remus only told Harry that "they are wonderful people and don't even get me started on the treacle tart."

It was enough, at the time. Now, Harry was feeling queasy again. Being back in time meant meeting very many dead people. He thought it would get easier with time, but it hadn't. Every time Harry saw another old young face, his heart sank just a little more.

Before Harry knew it, the train had stopped at Platform Nine and Three Quarters and his everyone was gathering their trunks, and moving out of the compartment. Malfoy was already standing on the platform, a few feet away from the the train, smiling in a way Harry had never had directed at him.

As Malfoy flashed a grin at Regulus, something ugly twisted in Harry's stomach. He turned away from the Slytherins only to find James and Sirius taking turns hugging an elderly woman.

She had an aged grace to her, and even now with salt and pepper hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, she was beautiful. Her smile as she took Sirius in her arms was free and light and so...motherly. She also greeted Remus and Peter as her own sons and smiled broadly when Lily was introduced, if a bit shyly.

James- and Harry by extension- looked very much like his mother. He had the same thick dark hair as she. While her's was grown out and down to her back, James was short and messy. They both shared the same nose and mouth. In fact, other than James' eyes and jaw, no one would doubt he was Dorea Potter's son.

Yet, even underneath the smile and the openness, there was a haughty air about her, and her grey eyes still held the shrewdness he had come to expect from members of the Black family. Andromeda, was one such person. Dorea reminded him a lot of Andromeda.

Charlus, Harry's grandfather, had a jovial face with receding white hair that might have been a dark brown a few years ago. He and James had the same hazel eyes along with the always mischievous glint reminiscent of the Weasley twins. He was a bit portly around the middle which only added to his air of the laughing grandfather. And his knees...even through the wizard robes Harry could tell his knees would be knobbly, just like Harry's.

He remembered- an echo of a distant memory, really- standing in front of the enchanted mirror. Looking at the dozen or so people behind him in the unused classroom. Remembered that this was in fact the man he had seen in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago. His family.

Harry was still watching, transfixed and rooted to the spot when Hermione hissed a command and pulled him along to the elder Potters. "Come on!"

Harry let her drag him. He didn't really have the energy to resist.

James saw them approaching. "Ah! Mum, this are my friends I was telling you about." He clapped Harry on the back when he was close enough. This is Harry. Harry P-"

"Jameson. Harry Jameson. It's a pleasure to meet you Sir, Ma'am." Harry stiffly offered his hand to his grandfather first and then his grandmother who stared at it as though it were a foreign object. James stared at Harry as well, something calculating in his gaze.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said and pulled him into a hug like she had to James. "Call me Dorea," she added when he was able to pull out of her embrace.

"And me Charlie, boy," Charlus Potter said cheerfully. "None of this Sir business."

"Oh," was all Harry could say. He suddenly remembered the others were there. He moved to the side and introduced Ron, Hermione and Malfoy- as Draco, however.

Remus and Peter said their goodbyes, promising to come by for their visit to Potter Estate after Christmas and joined their own families. Lily too said her goodbyes with a peck on the cheek and a tight hug for Harry. Her parents, being Muggles, would be waiting for her on the other side. Harry wanted to meet them as well, but didn't know how to make the excuse.

He wished his mother would stay, a warm and familiar comfort that she had become for him in just few short weeks. He reassured himself he would be seeing her soon enough in a week along with Remus as well so there was nothing to worry about.

"Well." Harry's grandfather patted his pocket watch meaningfully. "We must be off too. We'll be Apparating, of course."

There was a rearranging of positions as Dorea hustled everyone in pairs since the Travelers didn't know where they would be going. Harry was Disapparating with James, Malfoy with Sirius, Ron with Charlus, and Hermione with Dorea.

"See you in a jiffy," his grandfather said and vanished with a loud pop.

**##**##**

The first time Harry saw Potter Estate, he almost fell to the ground out of sheer disbelief.

Malfoy had given a low whistle behind him. He waited until both Charlus and Dorea vanished through the looming gate to smirk at Harry. "You are never, ever again allowed to taunt me about the opulence of Malfoy Manor. _Ever."_

Harry sputtered, unable to respond to that because, yes. Potter Estate was as large as Malfoy Manor. Ginormous, actually. Harry, used to small sub-urban homes from Little Whinging or cottages or charming but dilapidated buildings like the Burrow, did not know what to think.

The tall iron wrought gate through which Dorea and Charlus had vanished as though it were thin air held a coat of arms: a faceless man holding a very familiar looking sword and wearing a cloak, hood down with the words _Fortis Ec Cor_ making a halo around his head.

"Brave of heart," Hermione translated for him. "Fitting. Nice allusion to the long line of Potters being sorted into Gryffindor. I assume the cloak can only mean your Invisibility Cloak."

Ron smirked at Malfoy. "Better than peacocks," he muttered next to Harry.

Malfoy scowled. "Peacocks are fine creatures. Unlike weasels."

"Whatever, _Ferret,"_ Ron sneered.

"Oi!" Sirius called back from the gate. "You lot coming?"

They hurried to the gate. Sirius ushered Ron past first. Hermione went next, followed by Sirius, Harry, Malfoy, and lastly James.

Harry had expected to walk onto a garden path, instead he found himself already in the house in the entrance hall with a house-elf collecting their luggage.

Harry blinked at the unexpected location. "Er."

"Tipsy is taking you trunk, you guest of Master," the house-elf squeaked, giving a low bow. Just before Tipsy left she gave Harry a long look.

Hermione's features were already pulling into a frown. He had, as per her requests (commands) all but ordered Kreacher not to bow so much of call him Master. Before Harry could intervene, Malfoy spoke up.

"Oh God. Don't start with you _spew_ here, Granger."

"It's not _spew_. It's S.P.E.W." she retorted predictably. Ron too, cast a venomous glare at Malfoy for solidarity's sake.

Harry, unwilling to be dragged into this, only shrugged when Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"What is that?" James asked curiously, shrugging out of his cloak.

Hermione immediately glowed. "It's a society we founded." Behind her, Harry and Ron shook their heads to indicate there had been no _we. _Sirius grinned. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare."

James and Sirius blinked uncomprehendingly. "What welfare?" his father asked.

Hermione immediately bristled and was about go into another long tirade on the wizarding oppression on creatures they believed to be lesser than them. She was only stopped because the house-elf had returned saying Mistress had told her to show guest's of Young Master and Master Black to their rooms.

She still looked like she wanted to explain anyhow, but Ron dragged her away by the elbow with an apologetic look over his shoulder.

"She's _very_ odd," James remarked on Hermione's retreating back. "How the hell did you become friends with her?"

Harry flashed James a grin. "Saved her from a troll First Year. Best thing I've ever done, to date."

"A troll?" Sirius' eyes bugged out comically.

"Tell me you are joking," James pleaded, looking at Harry as though he feared for his life.

Surprisingly, Malfoy was the one to answer. "Oh no. It's true," he said in a grumbling tone.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous."

"Oh yes. My greatest ambition in life is to beat a mountain troll. How I loath you for taking away my glory," Malfoy drawled sarcastically.

"See? Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Harry grinned cheekily, shoving Malfoy lightly as they climbed the stairs. "Took you about...eight years."

Malfoy pushed right back. "Fuck off, Potter."

"Aren't we witty," Harry retorted, knowing Malfoy would take the bait.

"I'll show you-" And he did. Malfoy shoved his entire body at Harry's pinning him against the grand staircase railing.

Harry could barely hold back a grin. After almost three weeks of silence from Malfoy- when he spent all his time with Regulus- Harry found himself missing this. This banter. This light, harmless insulting. And maybe, if he was lucky, wands drawn or fists thrown all in good sport.

Although Harry might have wished on the last because of ulterior motives. It had just been so long since he and Malfoy fought. Only two seconds in and Harry's blood was already boiling, adrenaline pumped through him, pulled him closer and closer to Malfoy under the pretense of landing fake blows until...

"Boys, boys." James interrupted what would surely have been an entertaining- and somewhat exhilarating- sparring. "No fighting, please."

And wasn't that a shame?

Malfoy's lips were curled into a sneer. Harry knew he would deliver some insult- hoped, actually- so they could keep quarreling. But, just then Hermione came back at the top of the staircase, urged them to come quickly. Malfoy brushed past him with a shove at his shoulder. Harry let him pass with a slight grin.

James and Sirius stared at him for a beat.

"What?" Harry asked.

James sighed, rolled his eyes and walked upstairs. Sirius ruffled his hair with an oddly understanding grin, threw his arm around Harry's shoulder and led him to his room silently. Harry followed, if a bit confused.

Harry had just come out of the bath, white towel wrapped around his waist when Hermione burst into his room, face flushed from excitement. With a (manly) yelp, Harry dived for his clothes he had left on the bed- the very large bed in the very large guest room- and hurriedly put them on.

Hermione turned her back to him unconcernedly with an indignant, "Honestly, Harry! We lived in a tent together for a almost a year."

"You never saw my bits though, did you?" Harry grumbled, pulling on the same jeans he had worn the day he Traveled.

Time Travel afforded you a very limited wardrobe, he realized. At Hogwarts it was alright because he spent most of the time in school robes, but there were no casual clothes, and though James and Sirius had offered to lend their clothes, Harry couldn't take them. It was the seventies, and wizards still wore robes. Harry, who had grown up wearing Muggle jeans and t-shirts and had never really gotten the hang of robes, couldn't wear the clothes his father gave.

"That's what you think," Hermione replied darkly. She turned around just as Harry did his fly. Before he could ask just what she meant by that, she spoke urgently, "Come _on,_ I have something to show you." With that, she flounced out of the room. Harry had no choice but to follow.

He remembered the last time Hermione had been so excited and cryptic. It was four years ago when she had dragged Harry and Ron to the kitchens for a reunion with Dobby. He hoped she wasn't about to stage a coup to rescue the house-elves in his grandparents household.

"Hermione, where-"

"Just come on," she ordered, navigating the hallways of the maze-like manor as though she belonged here.

And it was maze-like. Malfoy was right, Harry could never antagonize him for snobbish, pureblood, elitist living. His own father was one of them.

A couple of minutes later Hermione and Harry were standing in front of large, stately double doors that had a somewhat forbidding air to them.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, although he had no idea why. "Should we be here?"

"Don't be silly, Harry," she said, pushing open the door. "James was the one who told me about this place."

'This place' was in fact, a library. A very large library, but just a library. Nothing special, at least not to Harry. He could see why Hermione would be excited though. He told her as much.

She gave him an unimpressed look and dragged him to the far end of the wall, away from the large bay windows that adorned one side of the ginormous room. From far away, the wall looked like any ordinary wall, firelight and sconces glancing off it and casting shadows. But as he drew closer, Harry noticed tendrils of deep red thread run every which way like poisonous vines stretching along the wall.

They were only three feet away from the wall when Harry realized what it actually was.

The thread he thought were crawling meaninglessly were, in actuality, lines connecting names and painted faces and birth and death dates.

This was the Potter family tree.

Harry touched a random spot tentatively. Reverently. As though if he weren't gentle, the red vines would curl around his fingers, up his arm, and close around his throat. Harry didn't know what made him think like that.

Harry wasn't sure whether he imagined the jolt he felt on contact with the surprisingly soft backdrop. He had expected it to be coarse for some reason. It was magic thrumming through him, connecting him to the tapestry and all the names linked to each other by the fine red silk links.

"Wow," Harry murmured. Because, really, no other word was fitting.

The tapestry went back to the early middle ages, just like he had seen in the genealogy book Malfoy had shown him all those weeks ago. But there was just something different about seeing the names in a book as opposed to seeing them on a wall, brimming with centuries old magic. Magic, now that he concentrated, felt like protection magic. He knew this tapestry would not be harmed just as it had not been harmed in the centuries since it was made. Nothing would destroy it. History usually couldn't be.

It lived on, even if those meant to learn it were not aware.

_A/N: Sorry it took so long! I had finals and all that life stuff. Thanks for reading._

_Much love. _


	8. UpdateApology

_A/N: YOU GUYS._ _I'M BACK! So all I needed was a kick in the nuts to remind me what an idiot I had been to leave this story for it to come back._ _For those minor few of you still reading this story after it not being updated in over a year, please take this as my heartfelt apology and know that updates will never take as long as they did._ _Thank you. I am still going to keep my original apology still up here. Because a new chapter does not excuse a year of absence._

**Sorry everyone who has read this fic since I stopped updating. It was really douchy of me to not give you guys a heads up. I sort of lost my muse for this a while back so it is – obviously – on hiatus for god knows how long. I feel terrible and I apologize to anyone who came this far. All your gorgeous reviews mean a lot. Thank you. I hope I can get back to it, but Harry and Draco are eluding me at the moment. **

***hides behind bushes in camo gear so no one can find me and pelt me with well deserved rock and what have you* **

**In the mean time I hope you have fun reading all the other glorious NON-ABANDONED fanfics out there.**

**UPDATE: FIVE NEW CHAPTERS UP. CLICKITY NEXT! :)  
**


	9. The One With Harry's First Christmas

"Bit chilly for a fly, don't you think?"

Harry swiveled around on his father's old (well, new at the times but depressingly old by Harry's standards) broom, only to be faced by Draco Malfoy's flying form. "Not too bad." Harry shrugged. He would much rather be out here than inside where his father, godfather, grandparents, and best friends were decorating a Christmas tree. Christmas was in two days, and everyone seemed to be getting into the holiday cheer.

"Right." Malfoy smirked in that annoyingly knowing way.

Harry debated whether or not to retort. Eventually, he decided he wasn't in the mood to pick a fight, so he admitted to his dismal Christmases of years past with the Dursleys. The elves and prefects always made up the tree at Hogwarts, and the Dursleys used to make him decorate their tree, but it was never meant _for _Harry. He was just the boy who could reach the hard to reach places where the bristles poked at itched. He snorted at the memories. "They made me wear gloves so I wouldn't tarnish their perfect ornaments."

If Malfoy was shocked by this news, he didn't say anything. Harry distantly heard the tinkling of laughter trickling through the walls out onto the darkened Quidditch pitch. He still couldn't believe his father grew up with a Qudditch Pitch as a back yard.

"Unfortunately for you, I've been ordered by Dorea Potter herself to bring you in for eggnog," Malfoy said after a long moment of silence.

"Ah." Harry was expecting a taunt or a jibe, so Malfoy's words surprised him. He'd never talked about his life before Hogwarts to anyone. Ron and Hermione knew bit a pieces, but nothing about the dull Christmases or the painful birthdays or being locked in a cupboard for days on end without food or water. He wasn't quite sure why he had told Malfoy of all people.

"Yeah." He paused as if he was waiting for Harry to say something more. When he didn't, Malfoy said, "Dorea Potter is not a woman you say no to, Potter. You are bloody well coming to drink the blasted eggnog and you are going to smile and enjoy tonight and the next few days because this will the first and last time you will ever get a proper Christmas with your family."

Harry grinned. He couldn't help it, hearing that supercilious tone from Malfoy, it brought back memories. "Fine," he said, then, "Race you to the shed," he added, for old times sake.

Behind him, Malfoy cursed loudly, but the words were lost in the cold wind as Harry hurtled through the air. And if, when they got back into the house, Harry found out Dorea hadn't called for him right then, then, well... who was Harry to mention it to Malfoy?

* * *

Harry absently stared across the dining table where James and Remus were engaged in a serious conversation about Defense Against the Dark Arts versus Transfiguration. It was the day after Christmas and Remus had arrived only this morning. Pettigrew was going to be a few days late, for which Harry was extremely grateful. It was difficult enough being civil to the boy during school. He didn't think he could bear it if the soon-to-be traitor intruded on his only holiday with his father.

Remus was more in favor of Defense, obviously while his father was more for Transfiguration which didn't surprise Harry. Harry was pulled into the conversation when James turned to him to ask:

"What do you think?"

"Defense," Harry replied almost absently.

James frowned at Harry while Remus gave him a broad smile. "See? Someone else who understands the superior importance of Defense."

"You're supposed to be on my side," James complained petulantly.

"Hardly surprising, innit?" Sirius said once he had swallowed around his full mouth. "He's loads better at Defense. Say, where'd you learn to cast a corporeal Patronus?"

Harry glanced at Remus momentarily before turning away to look at Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy. They stared at him intently, all of them probably wondering what his answer might be. Harry only smiled before answering with a cryptic, "I had a good teacher." Then, just because it was too good to resist, he said, "Snape."

Across from him, Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry's grin, Ron snorted a laugh at Sirius and James' shell-shocked expressions and Hermione hid her smile behind her hand.

"You're lying," James declared adamantly.

"Am I?" Harry quickly shoved food into his mouth so he wouldn't laugh at his father's outraged expression.

"Yes."

"If that helps you sleep at night."

"It does."

Harry was about to add something more when Remus, probably figuring the argument would never end, asked them about their progress with researching the Sphereix.

"Not particularly," Hermione said sadly. "All we know is that Black blood is enough to activate it, but there seems to be a spell or a particular set of words to go with it, or some emotional leverage that triggers the sphere."

It was frustrating to say the least. They had been here for almost three months, and nothing in either Hogwart's extensively library or Dumbledore's own personal library turned up anything. All they had been able to find were little three line snippets that told them how rare and valuable the Sphereix were. Which they had figured out funnily enough.

"Nothing in our library here?" James asked. Hermione shook her head. "Blimey. I mean, I never go in there if I can avoid it, but I've been reliably told it's supposed to be well stocked."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Sphererix are artifacts of the _Black_ family, created by a member of the Black family hundreds of years ago. The information wouldn't be in a rival family's archive, especially knowing the Potters penchat for being..." Malfoy looked as if he'd swallowed something sour, "Gryffindors. Besides, it might not be too long now. I've asked Regulus if he can lend me a few of the old books in Grimmauld Place. They're bound to help," Malfoy said confidently.

Harry clenched the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. "Oh, well if _Regulus_ can help, that's great."

Malfoy gave him a cool look. "It is, actually. Regulus has access to his family library. The whole Archival is at his disposal and it would speed things along if we could get a glance at it."

"Because Slytherins are so keen on helping people." Harry's mind caught up with his tongue a moment too late. By then, Malfoy's face was a blank mask and Harry hated that more than anything. "No, I didn't mean – Malfoy." Harry stood up hastily when Malfoy pushed away from the table, his chair making a loud scraping noise against the floor.

"Fuck off, Potter." Malfoy stalked out of the room, his borrowed robes flapping behind him.

Harry pushed his own chair back, stumbled to his feet and followed after him. "Malfoy. Malfoy, please I was just – where are you even going?"

"Away from you!" Malfoy snarled as he swiftly climbed the stairs three at a time. "You arrogant bastard."

"For fuck's sake, I was only...I just. _Malfoy_!" Exasperated and slightly out of breath by walking and climbing the staircase at the same time, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a Trip Jinx to halt Malfoy.

"You fucking bastard." Harry heard Malfoy cry out, along with various other unflattering adjectives that make his very glad his grandparents were not in.

The stumble gave Harry enough time to catch up with him. He tentatively offered a hand up, although he wasn't expecting Malfoy to take it. Surprisingly, he did. Malfoy allowed Harry to help him up, and Harry was so distracted by this accomplishment that he missed the fist Malfoy had swung back to connect with Harry's jaw. Harry let go of him immediately. "Ow. Buggering shit. That hurt!"

"So did being Tripped on granite," he said, coolly.

"Look," Harry started, stretching his jaw to make out the damage, "I'm sorry I said that. That wasn't fair to – to either you or Regulus Black. It was a dick thing to say. And it is great that he's willing to help us. "

"But?"

Harry sighed, unsure as to how he should say what he wanted to without offending Malfoy even more. It seemed to be the trend of the evening, however, so he just decided to spit it out. "But that fact remains Malfoy, that he's Regulus Black, and I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit – "

"Charming, Potter."

"Shut up. I'm apologizing all right? You can call it bias or whatever, but the truth is Sirius hated the lot of them, and Regulus may have been misunderstood. It doesn't matter, though, what he'll do in the future. It doesn't matter that he gives up his life for the greater good. For all we know we could be screwing _that_ up just by being here and meddling with things that we should damn well leave alone. So, you'll forgive me for not jumping at the chance to bring Regulus Black in on our little secret despite you being all chummy with him. Too many people know already," Harry finished, looking down at his feet. He scuffed his shoe against floor and tried to will away the heat crawling up his neck as Malfoy stared at him. When he was convinced he wasn't going to hear anything from Malfoy, Harry turned to leave.

"Did you seriously just say _chummy_?" Malfoy's teasing tone made Harry grin, but he didn't let Malfoy see it.

"It's a perfectly adequate word," Harry retorted. "It means intimate or friendly."

"I know what it means," said Malfoy, sneering. It felt good to know some things never changed between them. Malfoy's voice sounded different when he spoke again. More...deep and weighted with meaning Harry couldn't begin to discern. It made the back of neck prickle and a tingle ran down his spine. "I think it's friendly rather than _intimate_ with Black, don't you? Perhaps there's someone – someone _else_ with whom I am more intimate. Potter?"

Harry clutched the banister tightly, frozen in place because he couldn't _think._ Malfoy was walking closer – too close for Harry's comfort, for Harry to not want to turn around and push Malfoy up against the very same banister and _touch_ him, really touch him all over as that was all he could think about anymore when he was alone with Malfoy. But he couldn't let himself when he was still trying to understand their squabble, when his feelings were constantly teetering between confused and jealousy over Regulus Black. If he ever got the courage to tell Dra – _Draco_ about what he wanted from him, he didn't want it to be over something so petty as envy and he certainly didn't want to do it here in the past where he could never escape if Malfoy were inclined to – mostly likely – reject him. He wanted to do it right, to be careful about it because despite the war and all the change this was still Malfoy, and he had always always gotten a reaction from Harry that left him angry with himself. Malfoy had gotten under his skin a long time ago, but Harry wasn't sure he was ready to let him into his heart so soon.

Harry jerked his head once to the left. "It isn't any of my business who you are or aren't intimate with," he said, and walked up to his room unwilling to face the curious bunch that was surely still waiting for him in the dining room. He flexed his jaw lightly as he climbed the stairs. It would likely bruise a beautiful purple-blue by tomorrow, he was sure.

* * *

James looked on as Harry stumbled out of the room after Draco with a familiar broken expression. "He's a bit of an idiot, isn't he?" James said to the room at large.

Ron, the every dutiful friend, shook his head in defense of Harry. "He's just a bit...slow sometimes." James smiled at Hermione's disbelieving snort as Ron went on, "Besides, this isn't the worst they've ever said to each other. In fact, that was very tame comparatively. Not exactly the best of friends, those two, or any sort of friends. About as far as you can get from friendship."

"They've just never got on," Hermione said, "From what I understand, it runs in the family apparently." She gave them all a significant look that James chose to ignore.

James frowned as he remembered something Lily hinted at a few weeks ago. At the time he didn't pay it any mind because he had been too busy doing...something, but it nagged at him now. He sighed, stared down at his mostly full plate and said, "He hasn't got a girlfriend, has he?"

"Knew you'd get there," Sirius thumped him on the back cheerfully.

"I always wondered why Harry was so thick sometimes," Ron said cheekily. He ducked when James threw a bread roll at him.

"Like you're one to talk," Hermione commented. James was sure there was a story there, he didn't think he wanted to know.

"At least I don't have big gay repressed feelings for my childhood enemy."

"Ron!"

"What? I _don't_." Sirius guffawed heartily when Hermione swatted her boyfriend across the shoulder. "Reckon he gets that from his godfather?" Ron said, glaring at Sirius. It effectively wiped the smile off his face. Remus just sat on one end of the table with his flushed head ducked down. "Not like everyone didn't know anyway."

"Right, that's it. You're done. Put that spoon _down_ and leave the room. Now." Ron sulkily did as he was told, but he didn't go quietly. James could have sworn he heard 'Yes, Mother' from him. Hermione turned to them awkwardly. James wanted to tell her it was all right, that she shouldn't blame herself because his two _best_ _fucking friends_ in the world should have told him already. "Erm, well. Good night."

There was an awkward silence after they left. Sirius and Remus were looking everywhere but each other or James. "He's right, you know," James said, deciding to put them out of their misery. "Most everyone knows. Well, everyone who matters at any rate, although I don't think Wormtail does. That boy..."

"Prongs – "

"Shut up," James snapped without meaning to. He wasn't going to talk about his feelings and crap. He only wanted them to know they shouldn't have thought to hide it from him. "You're both idiots, and also my best mates although God knows why, so just...shut up, all right? It's fine."

He saw Sirius and Remus' dumbstruck expressions. Feeling a little smug about himself, James swaggered off to leave his two friends alone.

* * *

**A/N: FF.N is being glitchy so I'm going to upload the two new chapters again. Aparently, no one can read it for reason. :(**


	10. In Which Harry is Awkward

_A/N: Hey, look! I'm getting better already, see? New update. Hope you enjoy, and reviews are always welcome. Also, heed the warnings. Some Mature content(ish)._

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning with a severe crick in his neck from sleeping on too many pillows at too weird an angle. In his eagerness to stretch out the kinks from his body, he forgot about the fresh bruise forming on his jaw as he flexed it. He felt it gingerly to gauge the swollen skin, and when even the slightest prod hurt like a mother fucker, he pushed off his covers to look at himself in the mirror. He craned his neck to one side to survey the deserved damage. The mirror gleefully told him even his mother wouldn't love him with a face like that. He told it to fuck off.

It wasn't too bad, he surmised. It was red in the center with yellowing edges, and by tomorrow he was sure it would be a bright shining purple. Harry groaned already anticipating the mocking Sirius and James would put him through. He just hoped Hermione knew a good healing spell before he had to see either, knowing it was highly unlikely.

Without even contemplating anything as painful as a shave, Harry left the insulting mirror to get ready out of it's line of sight. Sometimes – only _very_ few times – Harry really missed the Muggle world.

When he left his room, one of the house elves informed him that everyone awake was in the sitting room. Well, one of the sitting rooms. This place was so vast, Harry had been duly informed by another house elf a few days ago that there were actually seven sitting rooms, each a different one depending on how close the relations between the Potters and their guests were. Harry had wanted to bang his head against the nearest surface. His family was just as pretentious and ostentatious as he had accused the Malfoys of being all these years. He would have much preferred to find out the Potters had lived in modest conditions like the Weasleys. Although, considering how much gold Harry had in his vaults, he shouldn't have been surprised. Never the less, Harry promised himself he would search out this home when he returned to his own time. It was a part of his history he had never had, one which he wanted desperately.

There weren't many people awake yet. Hermione was curled up in cozily in the armchair by the fire with a book in her lap and a cup of tea set on the table next to her. Surprisingly, James and Sirius was already awake as well, a conundrum which was answered when he saw his mother had arrived and she was happily chatting away with his grandparents. Remus was the first one to notice him. He raised an eyebrow at his jaw. He ignored him in lieu of greeting his mother.

"Harry! You – what. What happened?" She crossed the room swiftly in five strides and cupped his face gently. His grandparents too looked up worriedly. Lily tutted at him, her tone exasperated and resigned when she added quiet enough that no one else heard, "Was it Draco?"

Harry was overcome with a sudden rush of affection for this woman who he would never really know. He swallowed, gave a jerky nod and muttered, "I was a prat."

"Of course you were. _Boys_." With a heaving sigh, she pulled out her wand, tapped it gently against his chin and mumbled a few spell Harry didn't catch. "There. All healed. It might still ache a bit when you eat, but it should be fine."

"Thanks," he said, the pain already receding to a dull throb. He assured Dorea that really he was fine, Lily had taken care of it, and that he was just an idiot who ran into doors too often. Harry heard his father snort at his lame excuse as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Tea?" Charlie offered, already pouring out a cup for him. "I'll have Dempsy bring you breakfast. We've all eaten already."

He thanked Charlie and took the cup of perfectly made tea. The elves obviously knew about his injury because everything they brought was soft and easily swallowed. It made him feel like he was being babied. The thought made him flush. He wondered what happened to the elves here after his parents left for Godric's Hollow. Did they still live here in a big abandoned house just as Kreacher had? He sincerely hoped not.

Harry listened intently as Lily complained about Vernon and Petunia, and how they were planning on getting married by the end of this summer. He responded with obligatory hmms and haws when Lily looked at him in silent confirmation.

"Do you have anything special planned for today?" Dorea asked when there was a lull in Lily's constant flow of conversation.

"Oh, I was thinking of going to Diagon Alley when Ron wakes up. There's a few books I want to look at before we go back to Hogwarts." Harry knew he was unwillingly included in this trip when he look up to see Hermione making a significant expression Harry failed to comprehend. Ron was much better at this stuff now that he was actually dating Hermione.

"Um, yeah," he piped in all the same. "I need a few potions ingredients as well."

James looked at him incredulously. He knew Harry didn't need any new supplies because he had already gotten them before he left for the holidays.

"Why don't you all go?" Charlie suggested. "It'll be nice to get some fresh air, and it's not too cold out."

James supported the plan wholeheartedly and ran off to wake Sirius u saying "If he had his way, he'd be in bed till after noon."

Hermione went to wake Ron too, because he could very well spend the entire day in bed unless enticed otherwise. Remus stared at him for a beat after they left. "Shouldn't you go wake Draco?" he said, his tone seemingly casual, but Harry knew better.

The thought of seeing Malfoy at all today made his clothes feel too tight.. He didn't much fancy waking the man up. "No. I'm sure he's already on his way down anyhow."

"Harry." Lily frowned disapprovingly, and Harry being the weak, dutiful, _orphan_ son he was, sighed and went upstairs to wake up the last man he wanted to see right now.

Harry knocked tentatively on the door. "Malfoy?" The door slipped open of its own accord when he dared to knock a little harder. Harry ducked his head in, called louder, "Er, Malfoy are you – " The made was unmade and empty, but the pillows still looked sleep rumpled so Malfoy couldn't have been gone long. Although where he had gone so early – for him – Harry couldn't fathom.

A snap from the bathroom's direction cleared that mystery up right away. He knew he should leave, go downstairs and tell his mother that Malfoy was awake, but some inexplicable need carried his feet to the dark wood paneled door. Also, Lily would frown at him, tell him he should have informed Malfoy of their plans to go to Diagon Alley instead of just leaving the room. Yes, she would. Harry nodded at himself very convincingly.

This door was ajar too. Honestly, did the man have no sense of locking them? He nudged it open wider and thanked the lucky stars the doors in the house didn't creak, otherwise it would be an uncomfortable situation to explain.

It didn't occur to him that he was opening the door to Malfoy's _bathroom_ and that no matter what, it was still and awkward situation to explain away. The demerits of his plan did not hit him until the door was already open and he was gaping silently at a mostly naked Malfoy who had a towel wrapped around his waist, shaking his hips to a tune that was obviously just in his head.

Now, Harry had nothing against post-shower dancing or singing. He did both on occasion, and sometimes even together when he was alone in the prefect bathrooms at Hogwarts. But...it was _Malfoy_.

However terrible a justification that might be, it was Malfoy. Malfoy who did nothing without his natural grace and aplomb. Malfoy who never had a hair out of place or a wrinkle on his clothes. Malfoy whom Harry wished he could keep like this, suspended in time with his damp silver-blonde hair, wet torso, and flimsy towel protecting his modesty as a few of the water droplets slid lower down his belly into the edge of the towel.

Harry must have made sound that may or may not be akin to dying cats, and only then realized he was squeezing the door knob so tightly it was in danger of breaking off.

Malfoy spun around, shock and horror painted across his face and he _stopped_ _dancing._

_No,_ Harry wanted to say, _don't_ _stop_ _with_ _your...and_ _the...it_ _was._ _Please_. He couldn't say that, so instead he said, aware of how red his face was, "Erm. D'you want to go out?" Malfoy's eyes widened, his fingers clenching on the knot of his towel. "Not – I mean we're all going to – and Dorea said. So Lily told me to wake you up but you're awake. Obviously you – er, look like you're ready-ish, so anyway We''." Harry finished in a rush, looking everywhere but Malfoy. He already felt like a fool for last night, this wasn't helping any. Gods, how he wished he could just go back to hating Malfoy. It was a much simpler world he lived in then.

"Potter."

"Yes?" Harry looked somewhat hopelessly at Malfoy's narrowed gaze.

"Get out."

"Okay."

Because he didn't want to get punched in the face again, Harry complied. He shut both doors firmly behind him, face burning with something he didn't want to name. Knowing he'd be teased if he went back downstairs in his state, Harry returned to his own room where he locked himself in and leaned against the door, taking in deep steadying breaths. He looked down at his crotch where his erection was pressing painfully against the denim. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. He knew he shouldn't, knew it was wrong, but he just wanted so much, dammit, and Harry had spent most of his life not getting what he wanted. "Fuck it."

He unzipped his jeans, shoved them down enough for him to be able to take his cock in hand. Still on the floor against the door, Harry bent his knees so his feet were resting lush carpet. He spit on his palm, too eager for anything less disgusting. He stripped his cock slowly at first, trying to build some sort of rhythm, when all he wanted was to just fuck up into his wrist hard and fast and without finesse. He rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock, and reached his other hand down to touch his balls. His eyes fluttered shut when his fingers accidentally grazed the soft skin behind his balls. This time he didn't even bother to pretend he was thinking about anyone other than Malfoy.

He pictured him, all endless pale skin and long, lean torso, his sharp eyes flashing with mirth as _he_ did this. As _his_ hand touched Harry's dick, and he whispered _Come_ _on_, _Potter, come for me_. _That's_ _it_. _Just_ _me_. _It's always been me, hasn't it, Potter?_ His hips were impatiently thrusting up, trying to gain more friction, and he knew he wouldn't last long. Harry bit his lower lip to stifle any noise someone passing by might hear. He wasn't exactly sitting in a discreet spot. _Yes,_ Harry whispered to the Malfoy in his head. _You, just you, always you, Malfoy. Mal – Draco._

His orgasm tore through him with an intensity it had never had before. His hips slowed their motion as Harry milked his cock, watched as come splattered across the carpet and his clothes as the last images of a triumphant Malfoy faded from his mind.

"Dammit." He stared glumly at the mess he had made. With a hastily muttered spell, Harry cleaned his clothes to a presentable state – changing them would only attract unwanted attention from his mother and Hermione who paid close watch to that sort of thing for some fuck off reason, and Remus who would know what happened anyway because he was freakishly perceptive like that. Living in Grimmauld Place with him had not been easy the summer before his fifth year. He wasn't too sure about the carpet though, but hoped the house elves would clean it without any questions asked.

He splashed his face with cold water before making his way back down. Most everyone except Sirius and Malfoy were gathered in the foyer waiting.

"Harry, what took you so long? Is Draco ready?"

"He'll be down shortly," he mumbled to Lily. "I had to go get my wand. Forgot it upstairs." He averted Remus' knowing gaze as he spoke. He was embarrassed enough for one day, thanks very much.

Harry made sure to keep as many people between him and Malfoy as possible when he came downstairs. I was a little trickier when they all started making for the Apparition point beyond the gate, but he managed it somehow. Hermione rolled her eyes when she realized what Harry was doing, and with her regular half-exasperated, half-pitying look, dragged him off with her to Flourish and Blotts when they got to Diagon Alley. He laughed at the bewildered look on Ron's face, but he didn't seem very keen of accompanying them to the bookstore. Harry didn't blame him really when he said he was going to Quality Quidditch Supplies instead with Sirius and Remus, the latter following reluctantly.

They all agreed to meet at Florean Fortescue's in two hours.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as the distance between himself and Malfoy lengthened.

* * *

"I need to go to Madam Malkin's," Lily said to James and Draco. "I need new robes. I didn't get time to get any time for wizard shopping done with Petunia hanging around all the time."

James smiled at her, used to her complaints about her sister by now "I don't mind. As long as we get to go to Gambol and Japes afterward. How about you, Draco?"

"It's fine. Anything is fine," he said with a sharp smirk. He never seemed to just _smile,_ unless it was at Harry, and even then only if he was sure Harry wasn't looking. It just reminded James of how similar he Lucius Malfoy were.

James never had the opportunity to talk to Draco without any of the other three around. He decided to use the opportunity to find out more about this boy his son seemed to have a love-hate relationship with. "How did you meet Harry?" he asked, keeping his eyes on Lily where she was being poked and prodded with needles. He didn't envy her situation. He hated being fitted for robes.

Draco's smirk grew, but there was hint of nostalgia in it now. "It was here in Madam Malkin's when we were getting our Hogwarts robes for the first time. He was quiet and a little shy, and I was prattling on about something. I can't remember what now, but I just know I was a pompous arse and he didn't like me very much. It didn't help when I insulted Weasley on our first train ride to Hogwarts." He seemed to come back to himself then and added, "Besides, it was never going to happen, was it? A Potter friends with a Malfoy."

James looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I dunno. You seem to be doing a pretty good job of it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "We're not _friends_," he said with such conviction that James was thrown for a minute.

"Aren't you? Could have fooled me," he said finally. Lily gestured to the woman that she wanted her sleeves to be a little higher.

Draco shook his head. He looked at James, gray eyes hard and flat. They weren't Lucius Malfoy's eyes. Those were Narcissa's eyes – a Black's eyes. James himself had gotten his father's eyes, for all he mostly looked like his mother. "There's too much history between us. We've – we've done too much to each other, said too much. You were there last night, saw what happened."

"Yeah, I _was_ there. What I saw was one friend saying something stupid and then apologizing, because that's what friends _do._ They say stupid shit and then beat each other up, and that was one mean shiner Harry had this morning before Lily healed it, so I'd say you fulfilled the duties of frienddom perfectly."

"Frienddom isn't a word," Draco pointed out, amused.

"Isn't it? Well, it should be."

He knew Draco was staring at him, eyes wide and confused. "You're very peculiar. I think I'm beginning to understand where Potter gets it from. You are also a bit of a prat – something Potter is not. Well, not as much you anyway."

"What can I say? It's just part of the Potter charm," James said smugly.

Lily snorted at him and remarked, "Charm. Right."

James winked at Draco. "She says that, yet she's still with me and we have a kid apparently."

"A drunken mistake, I'm sure," Lily said.

"Of course, darling." James winked slyly at Malfoy and got up to join Lily as she paid for her clothes. He paused halfway there, turned around to a confused Malfoy, and sai8d "The best ones always hate you in the beginning."

Let him ponder on _that._

* * *

Remus, Sirius, and Ron were already waiting for them when Harry and Hermione got to Fortescue's. Harry collapsed into the chair Ron had helpfully pulled out for him and Hermione. He'd forgotten how tiring it could be going to a book store with Hermione. Ron, the bastard, hadn't, and only grinned when he saw Harry's miserable expression.

"I'll get you some ice cream, shall I?" Ron said, "The usual, I presume."

"Yep," Harry said, too tired to try anything special.

"Same here." Hermione sighed loudly, and leaned back in her chair, long hair flowing over the back. "That was an utterly useless trip," she said to Sirius and Remus, Harry could only assume because he knew that had been a useless trip. They weren't going to find about Sphereix in a well to do Diagon Alley shop anyway.

"Found nothing, then?" Remus asked sympathetically.

"Nothing." Harry groaned, rubbed at his sore eyes "Not that I'm surprised." He looked pointedly at Hermione.

"Oh, hush. It was worth a try."

Harry snorted incredulously, but politely refrained from saying anything and dug into the sundae Ron brought for him. He let himself drift in the bliss of having a Fortescue ice cream after so long. The man hadn't reopened the store after the war, not that anyone blamed him, however Harry missed his kind smile and delicious sundaes now that they were no longer around in his time.

The others chatted around him about nothing in particular. Harry ignored them for now, happy to have a moment to himself despite the crowd. He nodded his head absently to the soft music crooning in the back. It wasn't until the second verse that Harry realized why it sounded so familiar. His mind flashed back to years ago, sitting in his tiny cupboard under the stairs. He couldn't have been more than seven. He remembered how Aunt Petunia would turn up the radio whenever any of their songs came on, singing along to it as he heard her pattering about the house cleaning everything in that diligent manner she had.

_There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be,_

_It's easy..._

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love, love_

_Love is all you need..._

He used to think it would be just that easy someday, that one day he would do something that made Aunt Petunia happy, that she'd look at him truly just once when there was no Dudley and no Uncle Vernon, and tell _Harry_ that all he needed was love. It had never happened.

He was pulled out of his reminiscing by Lily's voice asking, "Beatles fan, are we?"

Harry looked up at her and smiled because she was _here._ He didn't need scraps of Petunia's affection anymore. He smiled haltingly over her shoulder at Malfoy, who just rolled his eyes and took the seat farthest from Harry, which happened to be right across from him. He turned back to Lily, determined not to let the look bother him. "Yeah. A bit."

"Good," she said decisively. "Clearly I've taught you a few good things about music. Otherwise who knows where you'd be with wizarding music."

Harry laughed as James defended wizard-made music, a warmth spreading through him. He was surprised to know she liked the Beatles, and stored the information away for later perusal. Lily ignored James, told him to get her ice cream and took to grilling Harry about the Beatles. Harry tried to answer as best as he could from listening to years of radio talk show hosts talking about him. He seemed to pass muster, because she nodded as the intense look faded from her eyes.

She remembered something she hadn't asked, leaned forward again, and tugged urgently at his sleeve. "Favorite song?"

"Two, actually," he said, because he had never been able to choose. He smiled broadly when one of them played around them and said, "This one," as the beginning notes of Strawberry Fields were sung.

"You're having me on." Lily shook her head adamantly. When Harry looked at her, confused, she said, "You aren't saying it's your favorite just because you know it's mine too?"

A thrill shot through him at the random knowledge, and the warmth in his stomach only grew. "I'm really not," he assured her. "I love it. I have ever since I first heard it." He had been eight, and he had first heard it during Christmas Eve one year. Dudley and Uncle Vernon had already gone to bed. For some reason, Aunt Petunia never listened to the Beatles when they were around. Back then, he had really thought the song was about nothing more complicated than strawberries. He knew better now.

His mother clapped her hands excitedly, she suddenly leaned over and enveloped him in a hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me," she whispered in his ear.

Harry felt his throat choke up with too many emotions. He knew everyone at their table was staring at them now, so he joked loudly, "Em...I do. You – you said the same thing when I first told you how I liked it best." Over Lily's shoulder, Harry saw Ron and Hermione's sad gazes. He looked away quickly when Lily pulled back.

"Sorry," she muttered, obviously embarrassed. "I'm just glad you like them as much as I do. It's hopeless talking to this lot about quality music, and Petunia abhors them. So I just...get carried away."

Harry stared at her, repeating the words she just said. Petunia had hated them? But, that didn't sound right at all. She listened to them all the time when he was growing up, playing them so loudly he could hear all the way out in the garden when he was...when _he_ was working. She'd never played them around anyone else. Oh.

He smiled past the dozens of emotions rushing through him. He laughed with the rest of them when Sirius broke the awkward mood with a, "I don't understand. They're talking about strawberries. Who cares?"

It wasn't until much later, after they had come back to his grandparents' house did Harry realize he had never told his mother his other favorite song.

* * *

**End Notes: Anyone want to take a wild guess at what the other Beatles song is? Interwebz cookies for any who get it right. XD**

**Edit: Second try, because no one can read this chapter either.  
**


	11. Wherein Harry Is Silly Once Again

**A/N: Be warned. Lots of conversing going on this episode. Apparently all anyone wanted to do was talk talk talk. :/**

* * *

"No, Ron, I will not play another game of wizard's chess with you. Why would I deliberately subject myself to a game I have no chancing of winning for the eighth time in a row?" Harry pushed away from the chess set, stretched his arms and yawned. They were the only ones left staying up It had been a while since just the three of them spent time together, but it was well past midnight. "Anyway, I'm dead tired, and I've still got a little bit of packing left."

"I thought you said you finished," Hermione said sternly from behind her 'light reading book'. Harry spluttered and tried to think of a quick lie. "Don't bother. I already finished for both of you. The trunks are in my purse."

Harry exchanged a quick grin with Ron. He turned to Hermione. "I love you, you know that don't you?"

"Yes, yes. Now get to bed before you collapse here. I told you that last snowball fight on the grounds was a stupid idea. I've asked Dorea for a Pepper Up Potion for you.

"You're brilliant, you are. Chuck Ron and marry me?" Harry asked dramatically, hand over his heart.

"Oi!" Ron took a light swat at him, which Harry ducked easily and retaliated by throwing a cushion at him. He ran out of the room before Ron could give chase, lateness of the hour and good food making him lethargic.

He bumped into Dra – Malfoy on his way up to his room. "Wha – where are you going this late?" He asked more sharply than he intended to. Things hadn't really changed between them since the day they went to Diagon Alley. It was mostly because Harry was incapable of standing in Malfoy's vicinity without remembering him in his bathroom, wet and mostly naked, and then he remembered what he had done after the fact, and what he had continued to do ever since.

Malfoy sneered at him, but his eyes looked everywhere but Harry. "To the kitchen, Potter. I want milk."

Uncomfortable, Harry shuffled his feet. "Right. Um, I'll let you be on your way." He had barely taken two steps away from him when Malfoy spoke again, his voice flat and lacking any emotion. Harry hated it.

"We'll be back to our time soon enough, Potter, and then you can go back to ignoring me properly. Don't worry."

Harry spun around, bewildered by Malfoy's words. "You think I'm _ignoring_ you?"

"Aren't you?" Malfoy said without turning around. "That's strange. Obviously I imagined all the less than subtle maneuvers you've executed to keep yourself away from my person."

"Away from your... Okay, first of all, who even talks like that? Secondly, it's called avoiding out of sheer and utter _embarrassment,_ you idiot. And how do you ignore someone _properly_?"

Malfoy did turn around then, his pale face tinged with a light pink that was the only indicator that this conversation was flustering him as well. Otherwise, his tone of voice was still as dead as...something very dead that Harry couldn't think of at the moment because yes, he had seen Malfoy flushed from Quidditch or the cold weather, but never like this. Never – never so softly that made his whole face look like a bloody rose. And now Harry was making crap pseudo-poetic metaphors about Malfoy's skin. He didn't think there was a higher level of pathetic than that.

"What reason could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?"

"Nothing, other than how I made an utter fool out of myself one night, and then went into your room uninvited the next morning when I was probably the last person you wanted to see at all after what a plonker I'd been. In your _bathroom,_ no less." Harry finished in a rush, kept his eyes averted from Malfoy.

"Did it offend your delicate sensibilities, Potter?"

Offend?Definitely_ not. _

He didn't realize he muttered it out loud until he heard Malfoy's sharp intake of breath. Sufficiently mortified once more, Harry decided to get away from Malfoy as quickly as he could, but Malfoy, the prat, rooted him to the spot when he deftly reached out and grabbed onto his wrist.

"Potter, I – "

"Harry? Are you still down here?"

Malfoy let go of him as quickly as he had caught him. They were too close, so close that Hermione what was – what would have happened had she not interrupted them.

She realized this too, because she gave a soft, understanding, "Oh."

Without waiting for either of them to say anything, Malfoy left in the direction he had come from, milk forgotten.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I just heard voices and I thought – I don't know what I thought really, but I wasn't expecting. It was dark and I didn't see you until it was too late. You and Malfoy looked very, um."

"It's fine, Hermione. I'm just going to go to bed. Good night." Harry sighed. It really wasn't her fault. She hadn't known what they were – what were they doing, anyway?

"Good night, Harry," she said, sounding a little sad. Although why she was sad, Harry couldn't tell.

**##**##**

"Those were the most exhausting Christmas holidays I have ever had," Harry declared to the compartment at large. He tugged roughly at his trunk and shoved on the overhead compartment. "And _that_ is saying something." He looked significantly at Ron and Hermione.

Sirius threw his arm around Harry's shoulder, laughed directly in his ear "You made the most of them. After all, when are you going to have another holiday with your parents when they're younger than you?"

_Never_. Harry smiled through the sadness creeping up his throat. "Never again," he said.

"Damn right," James said as he pushed his way in behind them. "Don't block the only bloody way in, you tossers."

"Charming as ever, isn't he?" Lily quipped from her seat by the window. She looked at Harry speculatively. "You sure you would really mind if you weren't born."

"Positive."

"I certainly wouldn't mind. By all means, do not make the mistake of having sex, I beg you," Malfoy drawled. He had already taken the other seat by the window, and wasn't even looking at Lily or Harry as he spoke. Actually, he hadn't looked at Harry all morning.

"Please. You'd be bored without me. Who else would hand your arse back to you on a silver platter in Dueling Club?"

A thrill shot through Harry when that got a reaction out of him at last. Malfoy glared at his, his eyes flashing dangerously. "That wasn't – you _cheated_."

"I did not," he retorted. "You're the one who had Snape whispering spells into your ear when we were supposed to _Disarm_ _only." _

"Because I'm the only one to ever use a spell from Snape."

"You were about to Cruio me!"

"And you almost killed me!"

"Like you never tried to have a a go."

"I never had to. You went running into danger all by yourself."

"Right. _You_ were very skilled at running away from it. First year ring a bell?"

"Not as well as _Fifth_ year does, I imagine."

Ron must have anticipated Harry's lunge for Malfoy, because he easily held him back by the scruff of his neck. "Sit down and keep in mind where we are. And you," Ron leveled a glare worthy of Mrs. Weasley. "Keep your mouth shut about things you know you shouldn't be talking about."

Malfoy gave him the two finger salute, but fell silent. Harry hadn't noticed that everyone was staring at them until he felt himself come off the high of quarreling with Malfoy. He wasn't even angry at Malfoy for bringing up Sirius' death when he was standing not four feet away. On the contrary he _missed_ it – missed Malfoy's harsh frankness. He'd been on edge ever since last night when Malfoy had stood barely two inches away from him. He wanted Malfoy to feel as unsettled and confused as him. He had been so sure before last night that Malfoy wasn't – the he wouldn't ever – be interested in Harry like _that_. That he would just laugh if Harry ever told him how he felt, what he wished he could have with Malfoy. But now. Harry chewed on his lips, glanced at Malfoy's profile out of the corner of his eye, and sighed. He wasn't sure about anything anymore.

"Well," Remus broke the tense silence eventually. "That was very entertaining."

The train lurched out of King's Cross. Harry craned his neck to catch the last glimpse of his grandparents, knowing these two weeks were all he had of them now. Still. It was something. Harry had always so keenly felt the absence of his family that he was willing to take whatever he was granted.

Harry shut his eyes against the fading platform.

* * *

James watched on, amused, as Harry tried to bore holes into Draco's mind via intense staring. The other boy obviously didn't notice, engrossed as he was in his conversation with Black. "That isn't going to get you anywhere. Trust me, I tried it for six years before I caught on."

"I'm not. That isn't the same!" Harry hissed across at him.

"Sure it isn't." Something caught his eye at the end of the table. It was Remus and Sirius with their heads ducked together, conversing furiously. Remus looked like he was trying to convince Sirius not to do something. A noble feat in James opinion. He leaned closer to Harry, lowered his voice so no one would hear. "Can I ask you something? About the future." Harry looked uneasy, so he added, "I already know you're wiping our memories before you leave." Harry gave him a Look. "What? It's my house. I know how to listen in without getting caught. It isn't even about me. I just. I just want to know if they're – if they stay happy in the future. Are they still together?"

Harry looked sadly at Sirius and Remus. He then reached into his pocket for something. It was a photograph of a small baby with constantly changing hair color. He recognized it as the same one Harry and overturned their whole room for. "That's Teddy Remus Lupin, his son with Nymphadora Tonks."

"Tonks as in Sirius' favorite cousin Tonks' daughter?" Harry nodded and tucked the picture of the grinning boy away. "How did they end up together?"

"It's too long, too complicated, and I can't tell you any of it. I didn't even know Sirius and Remus had been together."

Stunned, James didn't know what to say to the revelation. "I guess I can't tell anyone about it. Let them have their fun while it lasts, eh?"

"Yeah." Harry stuffed his mouth full of eggs to avoid saying anything more on the subject.

James decided to turn the conversation back to Draco and him. "Maybe if you just asked him out, this would all be a lot less painful to watch."

Harry shot him another one of those looks that James was sure he got from Lily. "You have no right to give me advice of any sort. You harassed my mother for most of her time at this school, separated her from her best friend, and you still lie to her about being an illegal Animagus. At this point, I'd take advice from Regulus Black himself before I listened to you."

James, being the bigger person he was, ignored that. "So you do admit you wouldn't mind asking him to go out with you."

"I admit no such thing."

"Don't admit what?"

"Our son's deep, undying love for his once enemy."

Lily smiled as she set her bag down next to him, pecked him on the cheek and said, "Stop teasing him."

"Thank you." Harry smiled smugly at James.

"The poor boy can't help it if he's a little chicken shit who can't accept and act on his big gay man feeling for Draco."

"Hey! You're supposed to be on my side." Harry pouted with such finesse, James was sure that had he been fifteen years younger James would have given Harry anything he wanted. As it stood, he wasn't and James wasn't quite as taken in with the puppy eyes and the fake tears.

"I'm on whichever side that makes you happy. Also, I want him as my son-in-law," Lily replied cheerfully.

Harry groaned into his palms. "Please stop that. He isn't going to be anyone's son-in-law, and least of all yours."

"You, young man, are very rude to your poor, old parents," James said, waving his spoon sternly at Harry.

Harry made some remark about his parents being neither old, nor poor and that they should damn well keep themselves out of his business. He then added that they tell Ron and Hermione he was going to class whenever the two showed up. He swung his bag over one shoulder too widely, and hit the shoulder of a passing Ravenclaw carrying some scones from their table back to hers. James struggled not to laugh at Harry's stricken expression as he helped her uselessly.

"It's fine, really. You don't have to – oh, thank you!" She smiled, a little bewildered at the new plate of scones suddenly placed in her hand. James only then noticed they were _his_ goddamned scones.

"Sorry," Harry muttered again, a sheepish smile on his face. "I'm a bit of an idiot sometimes."

He looked so earnest, James really wasn't surprised when the girl giggled in a rather silly manner and said, "Really. It is all right. I'm Janet."

Harry gave her a broad, relieved smile that sent _Janet_ blushing a bright red. James sat there, stupefied at the sheer obliviousness of his son. Could he really not see what Janet was _doing_? James looked at Lily for an explanation, only to see she looked as incredulous as James felt. They'd reproduced an oblivious idiot. Really, they had. James could never remember being so clueless in his entire life, and Lily was as perceptive as they came. Clearly, this was all Harry.

"Harvey. I hope I didn't hit you too hard." Harry motioned to her shoulder.

"It's fine. Maybe you can make it up to me later?"

Harry blinked. "Erm – " He didn't get a chance to say anything more as Draco's palm clamped itself on Harry. "Malf- Mallory, what?"

James took a moment to marvel at how Draco had crossed the Great Hall so quickly without Apparating. Clearly, determination trumped the laws of Physics.

"We'll be late for class, Jameson, and you know how McGonagall hates it when we're late. Do you mind?" Draco sneered at the Ravenclaw. He gave her a once over the same way James had seen Narcissa do so many times when she still went to Hogwarts. It was the glance that said you are beneath my notice and the only reason you aren't a pile of dung is because I don't want to deal with the smell. A young, first year James had been in awe of that look once when it was directed at him.

Janet walked away hastily without looking at Harry even once.

Harry glared at Draco, and he pulled his arm out of Draco's grasp. "What the fuck?"

"Please. She's easily twenty years older than you linearly."

"She – I. It wasn't like that!"

James could tell he really believed that himself. He really, truly though Janet the Ravenclaw was not flirting with him.

Draco shrugged delicately. "I don't particularly care either way. I only came here to tell you I have the book we need."

_Liar._ James cocked his head at Draco and mouthed, _Oh_ _really_, which Draco ignored.

Harry, irritation forgotten, looked over at the Slytherin table. "You mean Regulus Black pulled through?" He seemed impressed. "I'll tell Ron and Hermione to meet us in the Room. Come on."

"You have class!" Lily shouted after them, scandalized, but they were already gone.

"I'm sorry love, but I don't think it's their priority at the moment," James tried to console.

Lily gave a displeased huff. "He gets it from you," she said adamantly.

James rolled his eyes, but kept silent. He knew better than to answer when she was in her mood.

* * *

_**End Notes: I'm thinking there will probably be about three more chapter and an epilogue. But it's a rough estimate so who knows?** _


	12. The One With Harry Flying High

_**A/N: Drug (ab)use. If it bothers you, you might want to avoid reading once you see the word beeeautiful. Also, sorry in advance for the psuedo-cliffie.**_

* * *

Harry sat, a little dumbfounded and considerably annoyed as he stared down at the simple incantation that would be required to take them to their time. "That's it? That's all we need?"

"Apparently," Ron hummed. "Bit anti-climatic, isn't it?"

Harry couldn't agree more. "Cedo Rursum Tempus."

"There is beauty is simplicity, Weasley, although I don't expect you to understand."

Ron only rolled his eyes. Harry couldn't help but smile. If someone had told him that by the end of this jaunt, Ron would be the first one to be on friendly-ish terms with Malfoy, Harry would have declared them crazy. But, inexplicably they were. They still insulted each other and Malfoy still called Ron Weasel, and Ron always retorted with a well placed Ferret-face, but it had a softer tone to it now.

Hermione, ever the pragmatist, said, "It isn't really as simple as that, whatever the spell may lead us to believe. The theory is complicated, and it says here we have to all be decided on our destination. If there's even a minute's variance between the four of us – God knows where we'll end up then." She worried at her lip as she looked at the three of them. "This means you lot cannot be standing over the Sphereix arguing over what minute we have to go back to and what room."

Harry felt mildly insulted when her eyes lingered on him. "We'll just have to work it out to the second then."

"Because our plans work out so well all the time," Ron quipped.

"Shut up. We'll work it out. It can't be too difficult. We know it was after noon sometime when Malfoy came looking for us. We know the place, date, day. It shouldn't be too difficult to get the right moment stuck in our head so we're not flying of to Ancient Greece."

Hermione looked uncertain still, but she acquiesced. She twirled her wand over the page with the incantation and handed the book back to Malfoy. "I'll go tell Professor Dumbledore we found it. Malfoy, you have to give the book back to Regulus. And Harry, you – " She broke off, eying him uncertainly. "You have to tell your parents and Sirius and Remus."

Harry's heart sank. Yes, they would all finally return to their proper time, but it meant leaving his family behind, and Harry wasn't sure how to face that this time around. Fate, he decided, was cruel bitch. "Just...give me a while? I'll tell them soon."

They left him, Ron and Hermione trying and failing at not pitying him while Malfoy avoided looking at him in general. They all felt sorry for him, he knew. Hell, he felt sorry for himself. Childishly, he said to the empty room he didn't want to go.

It didn't change anything.

* * *

Everything was so _beeeeautiful_. No, really, it _was._ There were these...things in the sky. They looked purple and shit. And these other shiny things were so, so very bright. Harry wanted to touch them.

And eat them. Gods, he was hungry. The bright things reminded him of mangoes, although he'd never had a mango so he wouldn't know why he would want a mango he just knew he was really, very hungry and wanted a mango and everything was purple.

Harry giggled as a portrait scowled at him. "Shh!" He told the grumpy old man. "You – you'll wake people up. Shhhh. We have to be quiet."

The grumpy old man harrumped and turned away from Harry, which Harry thought was quite rude of him. Harry wasn't bothering anyone. He just wanted _fooooood._ And that's why he was going to the kitchens where the tiny people with the odd little ears lived. They'd give him food.

He stumbled down the the stairs and despaired that they weren't more like slides, because slides would be fun. And he could just slide and slide until he reached the very bottom where the fish people lived, like under the sea. Harry jumped the last few steps to the Entrance Hall, and giggled some more when his heel landed on the hem of him cloak and he toppled to the marble floor. He looked up.

Hogwarts was so big. It went on and on and he thought it looked a little bit like Hagrid's pumpkins, but they were orangey so Hogwarts wasn't really like a pumpkin at all, but he wouldn't mind some pumpkin pie that the tiny people with ears would give him. He turned left, walked down the passage he was certain would lead him to the kitchens, and kept walking, walking, walking... He'd been walking a really long time before he realized he wasn't in front of the pretty painting with all the fruits at all. He wasn't in fact in any part of the castle he recognized, and Harry knew a lot about this castle. No, really, he did.

He decided going straight ahead was easier and turning about to find his way back to Gryffindor.

Huh, Gryffindor was a very funny word. Gr...Gurry...Gurryfin...Gurryfindoooor.

Gryffindor.

"Potter?"

Harry blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness. "Mallurfoy?"

"What? No – how did you get here?"

"Er. Whe- wheeere is here?"

"The Slytherin Common room, you dolt. Are you, Potter, are you drunk?"

"High."

"Hello to you too. Now would you please tell me what you are doing in the Slytherin dormitory? How did you get in anyway if the entrance didn't open?" He looked pouty, but with that dip thing in his forehead that made it all squishy and Harry knew Malfoy was angry with him. Also, he was talking too fast, and Harry didn't know what he was asking.

"'M _high,_" he said again.

"You're. Oh, Merlin, no. Potter, tell me you didn't take any of the crap the Hufflepuffs go around giving like it's fucking candy."

Harry's legs hurt from his long walk. Harry leaned against a wall that wasn't there anymore and toppled into the room at Malfoy's feet. "Where is everyone? Why are you alone? Why is everything so _green_?"

Malfoy did that thing where people breathed out very heavily when they thought someone was being silly. "It's three in the morning, I was reading the Archival, and this is the Slytherin dormitories where everything is always green. Come on, up you get. God, you are a mess. What have you taken?"

Harry let him lead him to one of the plush, soft green sofas by the fireplace. It was warm. Harry snuggled deep and clutched at a nearby cushion. "If you look like James Potter, who's my dad, but _shh_ you can't tell anyone," Harry whispered in a conspiratory tone, "they give stuff to you for freeee. It's so cool. You should try it. Do you want it?" He dug around in his pockets and shoved a rolled piece of – whatever the fuck it was, hell if he could remember anymore – absolute magic under Malfoy's nose insistently. "You'll feel great, and everything is purple and fuzzy and your neck looks really pretty right now."

Malfoy's eyebrows flew up into his hair – vanished. Poof! "My...neck?"

"Mmhmm. I wanna lick it." So Harry leaned forward to do just that, only to be held back by strong, pale arms.

Malfoy's eyebrows came back. "No."

"But _Mal_foy," Harry whined.

"_No_, Potter. Please sit still so I can figure out what those idiotic badgers gave you, get you the antidote, and send you to your do-gooder Gryffindors all neat and cleaned up."

Harry leaned deeper into the soft sofa. He mumbled with minimum coherency and very haltingly about how he didn't want to go back to the Gryffindor dormitories. How, if he saw his parents, and Sirius and Remus again he would never want to leave this time. But he wasn't allowed to stay here, and it wasn't fair that he was given three stupid months with his family when other people got decades. He just – he wanted to forget how much it was going to hurt going back. He just wanted to feel like how he had after Cedric died, when one of the nicer – or just stoned – boys from Dudley's gang had passed him a joint that summer on the swings after the thugs had gone.

_Makes you not care for a while, _Jenkinshadsaid_._ _Makes shit easier to deal with._ _And you, Potter, look like you've got lots of shit. _He'd taken it at the time, even knowing how he shouldn't, but he was fifteen and it was just weed – _the_ _good_ _kind,_ _mind,_ _not_ _that_ _chemical_ _added_ _crap_ _Polkiss'_ _sister_ _gets_ – so what was the harm? And it had...it _had_ felt good. Harry just wanted to feel like that again tonight. He knew there were magical drugs like weed in the Wizarding world. He never sought them out, because he couldn't bear to look at Hermione's disappointed face and Ron's confused helplessness. They were the only family he had, and he didn't want to upset them.

But now, his real family wouldn't even know who he was in a week when they left. Who the hell gave a fuck about disappointment now? Certainly not Harry.

Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Malfoy listened to his rambling with a blank expression. Finally, he said, "Good lord, you're a bit fucked up, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed into his hand – his very wiggly hand. What were those things _moving_ on them? They were all long and hard. Oh. They were his _fingers. _That was so _cool._ "Fucked up orphan, me. Can I lick your neck now?"

That earned a laugh from Malfoy. "Still can't, I'm afraid."

Saddened, Harry looked back down at his wiggling fingers, that also had nails. "You don't like me much, do you? It's why you don't look at me, or smile at me anymore, or...or touch me on accident."

Something softened in Malfoy's hard, amused expression. "Potter – "

"_Harry_."

"Fine. Harry," Malfoy said with a huff. "I just. Tell you what. If you remember this tomorrow morning when you're sober, I'll let you lick my neck or any other place you want to."

"Promise?"

Malfoy looked up at the ceiling for some reason. "Promise. Can you please tell me what it was now so I can get you the antidote?"

"Don't need one. It'll clear out by morning," Harry dismissed. "My feet hurt. Can I stay with you tonight?" When Draco looked like he was about to say no, Harry pouted some more. "_Please_? I'll be a very good boy."

Draco looked stricken as he said that. He stuttered a bit, but Harry wasn't paying attention anymore because Draco was being mean and not giving Harry what he wanted. He spent his time hugging the cushion as Draco went on and on about how it wasn't right, and he should be in his own bed because that was the proper thing to do. And he could get him to Gryffindor if stopped being so bloody difficult about it. Harry waited until Draco took a breath in to talk some more.

"Can we go up to your bed now? I wanna snuggle." Without waiting for an answer, Harry climbed up what he was sure were the stairs to the boys dormitory. "Then tomorrow, I'll lick you _everywhere_."

"Sure you will, and _that_ way is the girl's dormitory."

"Hmm? Oh, girls."

"Yes."

"_Booooobies_."

"God. Fucking. Dammit."

Harry woke up disoriented and very much confused the next morning. It may or may not have had anything to do with the fact that he was in a four poster bed that was much too green instead of the usual red. "What the – ?" Harry shifted under the green covers to stretch out the kink in his leg from the awkward angle. He turned his head to the left, wondering why the hell he had gone to bed with his glasses still on, when he got a face full of blonde hair. "_No_." Quickly, Harry looked under the sheets to find that he was – thank fuck – still dressed. Also, Malfoy's arm was carelessly thrown over his stomach. "Okay. This is...interesting."

Harry could not remember how he got here or what the fuck he was doing in bed with Malfoy. Although, it really was warm under the sheets with Malfoy wrapped around him. Harry debated burrowing himself some more, until he realized Malfoy was probably about to wake up soon. Harry laid still, careful not to jostle Malfoy, and mentally retraced his steps last night.

He remembered skipping class all day, and then catching up with James and Sirius, telling them he was going to leave soon. He remembered watching their smiling faces fall as he informed them of how they were going to perform the spell this weekend, and that they were probably going to wipe away any memories of their visit. Dumbledore thought it was best. When Lily found out, she had smiled broadly through her tears, assuring him it was fine, really, because they'd see him soon enough anyway the minute he left.

He hadn't had the heart to say anything to the contrary.

That was the last straw for him last night. He'd gone to the Hufflepuffs a sixth year Gryffindor told him about, his hair and eyes changed back to their original color. They had thought he was James Potter, and who would dream of saying no to _him_?

Then – and then it was all a blur from there, really. He knew he was in one of the secret passages at the beginning when he took the first hit, but after that...he wasn't sure. He thought he had a vague feeling of walking around the castle aimlessly, getting lost, and somehow discovering a new entrance to the Slytherin common room. And he had...told Malfoy he _wanted_ _to_ _lick_ _his_ _neck_? He had. And Malfoy had said...he'd said...

"Well, balls."

"Yes," Malfoy's soft, sleepy voice startled him from his memories of last night. "We've all got a pair. Now will you shut up and let me _sleep_?"

"Malfoy," Harry said stupidly, "you're awake?"

"Yes, you wanker. You're not the quietest person to have in bed."

The reminder that they were in bed together and most certainly _not_ _naked_ made Harry flush deeply. "Erm. Sorry?"

Silence. Harry knew he should take that as a sign to shut the hell up, but –

"You said I could lick you anywhere if I remembered."

Harry didn't know what made him so bold to say that, but it was out there and he couldn't take the words back no matter how much he wished to.

"Potter." Malfoy sounded hesitant, and confused from being roused so unceremoniously from his slumber.

Maybe it was the leftover buzz from last night, but Harry blurted out"I want to," and hoped no on in Malfoy's dormitory heard that. He was _trying_ to be as quiet as possible.

"Fuck, Potter." Malfoy began pulling his arm off Harry. Harry held onto it, turned his body so he was staring at Malfoy fully, and tucked the arm over himself again so that Malfoy's palm was resting against his lower back.

"Eventually, I hope so," Harry said cheekily. "Not quite yet." Without waiting for Malfoy to say anything else, Harry dipped his head awkwardly, making sure not to head butt Malfoy's chin. He licked a small stripe from the hollow of Mal – Draco's neck to below his Adam's apple. "There. Now what was that you said about licking any other place?"

Malfoy groaned into his hair, fingers tightening against his back. "I _hate_ you."

* * *

**End Notes: I must say I do not promote nor condone the use of drugs in any form. Please. Do. Not. Do. Drugs. Harry is an idiot. Don't follow his example.**


	13. The One Where They Do It

_A/N: Embarrassingly short chapter. Apologies. Still hope it's enjoyable. _

_**And I want to take a moment to give a big thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed/liked this story. I appreciate all of you, especially since you all are reading after my hideously long break. So yeah. Thank you very, very much. **_

* * *

"You don't hate me," Harry said adamantly. "Stop lying." He shifted closer until he and Draco were flush against each other. He leaned closer still, and stopped an inch away from his lips. He'd wanted this so long, and at the moment he couldn't even remember why he had denied himself this. It was obvious now with his hips pressed against Draco's, that the other man had wanted this for almost as long as Harry had. "You said I could lick you where ever I wanted," he reminded Draco.

Draco's lips quirked into a smile. "You were high as a rogue Snitch. I didn't think you'd remember."

Harry grinned sheepishly as he recalled his less than stellar behavior last night. "I do, though." He lifted his head slightly off the pillow, trailed kisses from Draco's ear to his jaw. It had been a while since he'd done this, and never with a man. Draco's stubble pricked his lips, but Harry ignored it. He smiled to himself when he felt Draco's heartbeat quicken. Harry knew his pulse was far from calm, too.

"Potter, I – "

"Harry," he murmured into Draco's skin. "You called me Harry last night."

"_Harry_," Draco said, his tone annoyed. Harry chuckled, because despite this – the shameless rutting, the clenching fingers, the urge to never stop touching – they were still them. They still had their push and pull. "Come here, you bastard." Draco urged his face to lift up, away from his skin, and Harry whined. He wanted to taste more of that chin, that _everything_. "Shut up. I have to – let me." Harry didn't know what Draco was trying to say, but it became very clear when Draco fitted his lips against Harry's.

He heard his own breath hitch, and it was just then that he realized he hadn't _actually_ kissed Draco until then. And then he realized he was _kissing_ _Draco_ _Malfoy_. He wanted to kick himself. They could have been doing this all along if he hadn't been such a bloody fuckwit. It was a little awkward at first, mostly because the bed was not meant for two people in the first place, and their elbows kept hitting each other in the ribs and armpits. It was a miracle they had lasted the whole night in the small bed without falling out. They also had to make sure to keep as silent as possible as other boys in the room were waking up to get ready for their day.

Eventually, they figured it out when Harry tucked his leg around Draco's and nudged him so that Draco was lying on top of Harry. He broke apart with a groan as Draco's hardness pressed firmly against his. He trailed his fingers down Draco's side, untucked his sleep wrinkled white shirt from his trousers. He smirked smugly at Draco when the other man made an encouraging noise.

"You too," Draco said, his face pressed into the crook of Harry's neck. He fumbled with Harry clothes and very soon there were too many hands doing too many things all at once. Exasperated at their lack of progress, Draco shifted up, straddling Harry and quickly divested himself of his shirt and then Harry of his. Harry approved of this very much, even as he watched with hooded eyes when Draco cast a silencing charm around his bed.

Harry curled his fingers in the nape of Draco's neck, pulled him down for a thorough snog, relishing the skin on skin contact. He scooted up the bed so he was leaning against the headboard and managed to kick his trousers off without kneeing Draco someplace sensitive. Draco smiled at his flailing and settled between his legs. "Here," he said. He trailed a finger around the outline of his cock, and laughed like the cruel, evil man he was when Harry tried to press against him to gain more friction.

"_Malfoy_," Harry gritted through his clenched teeth, tightened his hold on Draco's neck.

"Double standards, _Harry_?" Draco tsked. "How disappointing."

"What?"

"I have to call you Harry, but you can't call me Draco?" He pouted his swollen lips, and Harry realized with a jolt that _he_ had made them that way.

"I'll show you double standards." Without waiting for a reaction, Harry flipped them over, miraculously managing not to topple out of the small bed. He ground down against Draco's crotch and smirked when he moaned.

They'd wasted enough time, he thought, and without any more delay took both of them in hand. It felt weird. It was almost like beating off by himself, but not. His palm was too small to fit around both the dicks, and there was more pre-come and it was little dry. It wasn't perfect by any means, but he didn't think it would be very _them_ if it was perfect. Nothing about this, him and Draco together was perfect. There was too much – but he didn't want to think on that now.

He leaned down and pressed kisses on Draco's bare chest. He had promised to lick him everywhere he wanted, after all.

"Ahh, ahh, Harry." Draco's slender fingers pinched at his nipples. "Come on, come on. For me." His voiced sounded unsteady, and Harry was glad of the proof that he wasn't the only one feeling completely undone by this.

Harry kissed him, nipped hard at Draco's lower lip and said, "Yes. Yeah." He was so close – embarrassingly so. He wanted to make sure Draco was too. Harry twisted his wrist, fisted their cocks tighter, the pressure became almost unbearable.

The sight of Draco's eyes clenched shut as he pushed up against Harry sent him over the edge and he came violently. Draco followed immediately after, curses flowing from his reddened lips. His entire torso was flushed and he looked gorgeous. Harry collapsed on top of him, grunted as Draco pushed him off to the side muttering something about oversensitive and heaviness.

"Well," Harry managed when he caught his breath back. "That was – "

"Shut up."

Harry shrugged. "All I mean is... that was...that was nice, yeah? Very nice, really. No reason why we shouldn't do it again. Practice makes perfect and all that."

For some reason that made Draco stare at him like he had sprouted two more heads. "You're not – you're not freaking out. Why aren't you freaking out?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at him, confused. "Do you _want_ me freaking out?"

"No. Obviously not. I just thought you'd be running out of here already, crying into Mummy and Daddy's shoulder. I thought this was a one time deal." Draco looked everywhere but Harry as he spoke the last few words.

"One time." Harry blinked at the green canopy of the bed, swallowed hard and made himself look at Draco. "I don't want it – do _you_ want it to be a one time thing?"

"No!" He sounded horrified at the idea. "Definitely _not_."

"Oh. Okay. Well, then."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah."

"Yep."

Harry chanced a glance at the other man out of the corner of his eye, only to find Draco was looking back at him too. He burst out laughing. Draco seemed bemused for a moment before he joined in too.

Right then, in that moment, he forgot about last night, and leaving in a week, leaving his parents and his godfather, about not seeing Dumbledore ever again.

Harry smiled as Draco leaned over to kiss him some more. He could get used to this.

* * *

"Where's Harry?"

James shrugged tiredly at Lily's much too chipper tone. He knew she was trying to put up a front for the benefit of Harry, because she was truly upset that they would be leaving soon. Honestly, though, there was no need to look so bloody awake in the morning.

"Haven't seen him since dinner," Remus said, blasphemously cheerful too. "Thought he might be sulking somewhere with Ron and Hermione. You've made a very moody child."

James debated lobbing something at him and defending his son, but that would require utilizing energy he didn't have. "Meh," he said instead, and dug into the toast heartily.

Lily stared at the Great Hall doors where Draco had just come in with Regulus. He looked uncharacteristically happy. The news of their return was clearly having a positive effect on his spirits where Harry had looked nothing but miserable yesterday. "Maybe he was with Draco."

"Are you joking?" Sirius snorted into his cereal. "They haven't spoken two words to each other since the train."

James had to agree. Whatever faux pas Draco had committed by mentioning their fifth year seemed to jeopardize their shaky friendship further.

At the last minute, Draco changed his purposeful walk to the Slytherin table, and turned to the Gryffindor table. "Morning," he said, taking a seat between Remus and Lily.

"Hello Draco. Have you seen Harry at all since yesterday?"

"Why would I?" Draco asked, mouth curled in an amused smirk. "Have you asked Granger and Weasley? They're more likely to know where he is."

"Of course. I'm just worried. He seemed very upset yesterday." Lily frowned worriedly. James took her hand under the table to assure her without speaking. It worked fractionally. Lily's tense shoulders relaxed as he rubbed his thumb against the underside of her wrist.

"That's because he's an overly emotional idiot," Draco dead panned. "He knew we were always going to leave soon or later." He picked up a stray piece of toast and smeared marmalade on it."Not that I'm not utterly heart broken over leaving such scintillating company, mind, but I would rather be back where I belong."

"Right. Yeah," said James. He couldn't imagine living in the past indefinitely. "And you'll see us very soon too. It's us who's going to have to wait for several years."

"Right," Draco said stiffly. He turned the conversation to other subjects soon after that. James realized this was Draco's twisted way of saying goodbye to them.

James smiled to himself, and hoped that someday – very soon – Harry and he could get their head out of their sphincters and see how perfect they were for each other. The likelihood of that happening anytime soon seemed remote. But there was always the future.

They didn't see Harry until their first class of the day. He sneaked into the classroom just as Slughorn was waxing poetic about the Draught of Living Death, a full ten minutes late. If it were anyone other than Slughorn, his tardiness would have been severely punished. As it was, Slughorn didn't even pause at the creak of the door. Harry flushed a brilliant red under Hermione's glare, and whispered something too low for James to understand.

He caught up with Harry just outside Slughorn's dungeons. "Hey. Where have you been?"

"Hmm? Oh, fancied a walk this morning."

"A walk?" James asked, skeptical. "In January? In knee deep snow?"

"I like the cold." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Lost track of time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It happens."

James peered at Harry. "Of course," he said, and decided then and there that Harry was lying. "Stroll, yeah." Harry grinned at him, looking for all the world very innocent. James wouldn't have even caught on if he hadn't seen himself practice that very same look of relaxed innocence countless times before.

He walked with Harry to Transfiguration, and vowed to follow Harry if he left without an explanation once again.


End file.
